JAG - Retold (Season 3)
by flaunt
Summary: Take Harm & Mac's JAG Season 3 adventures. Add shipper scenes. Reimagine motivations and back stories while adding my own episodes. See me ruin a wonderful franchise. In short, my (crazy/ambitious) retelling of JAG.
1. Ep 1: Ghost Ship (Part 1)

**JAG - Retold (Season 3)**

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**Author's Note:** This series picks off after the events in JAG - Retold (Season 2), now available on FanFiction-net. Please check with your local provider on availability in your area.

This is an attempt to rewrite the entire JAG saga, with a heavy concentration on Harm & Mac's relationship. Some scenes you may remember from the original TV show, and some scenes may be completely new - hence the title of the piece, 'JAG - Retold.'

Ultimately, all I hope for is that you enjoy my favorite TV show of all time, as retold through my eyes. :) Thank you.

**Disclaimer: **JAG and its characters are the property of Belisarius Productions, CBS and Paramount Television. As the courts will not allow me to change my name to any of the aforementioned, I am sad to report that I do not own JAG. I shall appeal!

**Spoilers:** Any episode with Catherine Bell in it, from Episode 1x22 'Skeleton Crew' onwards.

**Rating:** T

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**Episode 1:  
**Ghost Ship (Part 1)

1800 ZULU  
CIA HEADQUARTERS  
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

It looked like every person on a CIA payroll filled the large hall, chatting in quiet whispers, nodding at familiar faces in greeting, smiling cordially at jokes. It was a spook convention, and they convened because the old Director of Central Intelligence - Wyatt Garrison was calling it a day.

But they were really here because there was a new Director of Central Intelligence, and it was never a bad idea to see who the new boss was.

They gathered in the main auditorium, sipping on coffee and juice. This was no gala event. This was the sort of party thrown together by a person who had no idea what was supposed to happen at a party. Still no one complained.

Clay might not be complaining but that didn't mean he was satisfied either. Far from it, he was giving up an off day and a date with a very beautiful supermodel from South America to be here in a room filled with nervous sweaty men and equally nervously sweaty women.

He sighed. Truth be told, Clay liked pretty things. Though he worked in intelligence... or perhaps because of it, he had little use for companions who were intelligent themselves, so he really liked Carmelina. She was good in bed, knew that she was, and didn't bother to know anything else.

"Clay, nice to see you give up an off day to be here." a familiar voice called to him and Clay turned to the man.

"DCI Garrison." Clay greeted the former CIA director. And he really looked old - the job had taken its toll - though perhaps the years of hard liquor he consumed in his office after hours had played a role too. "I wasn't aware that I had a choice."

"We all have choices, Clay. Some just are better for us than others." Garrison smiled sadly, and Clay wondered what regrets the older man was thinking about right now.

"What do you think of the new director?" the old man asked as he indicated the man in the middle of the room. It seemed fitting, the man in question was the middle of everything - middle aged, medium build, middling features. The man stood out like camouflage, Clay wouldn't have noticed him even if he tried.

"Can't say I can get a read on him."

"I know. And it's maddening." Garrison agreed. "How can a man so unnoticeable get to the top?"

Clay looked at the spymaster with surprise, "You didn't nominate him?"

"Nominate who?" the man in question snuck up on them. Clay put on his most stoic face and greeted the man.

"Director Blaisdell."

Blaisdell greeted both of them, "Director Garrison. And you must be the infamous Clayton Webb." the new DCI looked closer at Clay, "Your father spoke about you often."

Clay was surprised. "You knew my father?"

"Neville saved me once. But I'd like to think I repaid that favor." Blaisdell said with a wink, "After all, I helped him meet your mother."

"How?" Clay asked, curious about any story of his past. His mother refused to speak much about her life before he was born, and indeed refused to speak much about his father.

"A story for another time perhaps. Follow me." he told Clay and as he was the new head of the CIA, Webb had no choice but to obey, leaving Garrison to enjoy the rest of his party.

Blaisdell found a secure room and ushered the younger man inside, locking the door behind them. Once their privacy was secure, Blaisdell stared at Clay. "I heard about Lagunov's list. Russia's not happy."

Webb's face revealed nothing, even though he played a vital role in securing the list in the first place.

Lagunov's list was a microdot containing a list of names - American POWs captured in the Vietnam War that had been sent to Siberia for internment... or worse.

The man who compiled it, Vilen Lagunov had died as he tried to smuggle it out of Russia, killed by the FSB, the replacement of the old KGB, and as many of its agents came from the old spy service, as did its methods, the FSB proved to be nothing more than a glorified renaming exercise.

"The list was destroyed." Clay lied as he'd been ordered to do. Officially that was the story, but the truth was Clay had saved it from destruction and had delivered it to former DCI Garrison himself.

"Was it now?" Blaisdell said casually, "Well, I trust it'll be undestroyed in time. But it doesn't change the fact that FSB has agents scouring the globe for it."

"It's their resources to waste." Clay said.

"I would like to believe that, but you see there are two things I know that you don't, Clay. One, Lagunov wasn't the first one to put together the list."

"You mean..."

"There's another list out there. One which we tried to get at before, but failed."

"Who compiled it?" Clay asked.

"A Vietnamese Colonel. He was the one who made the passenger list. And that list is just as damning as Lagunov's."

"How do the Russian's know about the second list?" Garrison questioned.

"Perhaps one of the old KGB generals remembered. Who knows, but Lagunov's list seems to have shaken a few old memories out of their drunken stupor." Blaisdell said.

"And the second thing I don't know?" Clay asked.

"The FSB are looking for your friend Rabb."

Clay's face hardened at that sobering news. Harmon Rabb Jr. had been instrumental in finding Lagunov's list. And as the FSB showed with Lagunov, they weren't exactly known for playing nice.

"I hope you know what you've stirred up." Blaisdell looked at Clay. "Perhaps it's fitting - your father created the situation. Maybe it's time his son saw it home." he said with a grim expression and left Clay to stew.

oxoxoxo

1320 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Lieutenant Commander Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. sat in one of the chairs, next to his JAG partner, Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie. Behind both of them in one of the smaller seats was Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts and in front of them all, peering at the three from behind his desk was their CO - the Judge Advocate General himself - Admiral A.J. Chegwidden.

The Admiral whipped off his reading glasses and addressed the three officers under his command.

"The city of Alameda is attempting to preserve the USS Hornet as a museum ship. While workers were inspecting her hull for corrosion, they found a skeleton in the void."

"The void, sir?" Mac asked. Unlike the three men in the office, she was not a sailor and had not served aboard ship.

Harm glanced at her casually, catching her eye. "That's the space between the inner and outer hulls, Mac." he said and gave her a quick if wry smile. She didn't react.

Seeing her non-reaction, Harm turned back to his CO. "Admiral, the void is sealed during construction. How would a body get in there?"

Bud quickly jumped in, "Well, the same as it did on the Great Eastern, sir."

The three senior officers turned towards the young man.

"Enlighten us, Mr. Roberts." the Admiral said, prompting him to continue.

Put on the spotlight, Bud stuttered a little but soon his mouth caught up with his excitement, "She was a double-hulled ship too, sir. During construction, a ship fitter fell asleep in the void and was accidentally sealed inside."

"And no one thought to look for him?" Mac asked, curious.

"Well, they thought he'd just gone AWOL, ma'am. But they said that you could hear him pounding on the inner hull for years."

Bud's claim was greeted by a look of increased skepticism.

"Years, Bud?" Harm asked his subordinate.

Bud blushed, "Ah, perhaps not years sir. But when they scrapped the Great Eastern, they found a skeleton between the hulls."

The Admiral interrupted Bud's storytime, "Well, the skeleton on the Hornet wasn't a ship fitter." he said as he handed the file to the senior JAG, Harm. "He was dressed in Naval aviator gear, and he apparently died of a fractured skull."

"Murder, sir?" Harm asked as he leafed through the report.

"Unless he somehow sealed himself up after death, Commander, it looks like it." A.J. said before continuing. "He was hidden with no identification other than wings, bars and his patch."

Harm recognized the patterned patch immediately. "This is a Skoshi Tigers patch, Admiral." he turned to Mac, "They were a South Vietnamese air force squadron. Flew F-5s out of Bien Hoa."

The Admiral nodded, "Which means that our skeleton was entombed during the Vietnam era."

"God, my father flew off the Hornet on his first tour. Could have been in this guy's squadron." Harm said, looking up at his CO.

"He very well may have, Commander." A.J. said.

"Sir, isn't this technically a matter for Alameda Homicide, since the Hornet's their museum ship?" Mac interrupted Harm's unabashed trip down memory lane.

"Not yet, she isn't. Navy still owns the pink slip. If Alameda can't raise the funds to maintain her as a museum, she'll be sold as scrap." the Admiral answered her question. "In any case, the victim died while the Hornet was in commission. Alameda Homicide says this investigation is all ours."

A.J. leaned back in his seat, "Or should I say all yours. Get to it."

As one, the three officers rose with an "Aye, aye, sir."

oxoxoxo

Bud had been ordered to stay behind to do research, which posed three problems for him. One, he had really wanted to see California. Two, he had a date with Harriet that he had to cancel. And three, she followed him to the Navy Archives... where Millie Shaker, the brunette who worked the information desk on Friday nights was a little too familiar with Bud for Harriet's liking.

Of course, that Harriet still helped Bud looked through a mountain of microfilm information for everything concerning the USS Hornet, spoke volumes of her character.

Or perhaps she was afraid of leaving Bud alone with Millie Shaker. Either way, it was a long, lonely and chilly weekend for the young Lt. j.g.

oxoxoxo

0300 ZULU  
USS HORNET  
NAVAL AIR BASE ALAMEDA, CALIFORNIA

The JAG fleet car pulled up to the dock the old aircraft carrier now called home. Harm exited the driver's seat and admired the view... she was everything he remembered her to be.

Mac stared at her attractive JAG partner and tried not to admire him the way he seemed to admire the ship - openly and unabashedly.

She popped her garrison hat on her head and asked him. "You ever fly off her?"

He turned to the attractive Marine Major and flashed her a winning smile, "No, she's too small to handle Tomcats. But I was on her once."

The memories came flooding back, clear and sharp as if they had happened yesterday.

oxoxoxo

SEPTEMBER 1969  
USS HORNET

Five-year old Harm stood upon the deck of the USS Hornet, looking wide-eyed at his surroundings as if trying to see everything all at once.

The F4-Phantom II's with their open cockpits gleamed in the sun, their whitish-gray paint jobs seeming unnaturally bright. Little Harm held his hand up to shield his eyes.

"Hey, son. You wanna see where your daddy works?" Little Harm heard a man's voice ask and he turned in that direction.

And saw his father, his mustache barely concealing his upturned lips. This close up, it wasn't hard to see where Little Harm would get his dashing good looks one day - he really was his father's son, the very spitting image of.

Little Harm smiled as he took his father's hand.

oxoxoxo

PRESENT DAY  
USS HORNET

Harm climbed the ladder up to the flight deck and turned to offer Mac a hand. She looked up at him and shook her head, refusing his offer. She was fine and soon she joined him.

"What's the bulkhead number where they opened the void?" Harm asked her.

She looked at the paper in her hand, "Two-Delta-42 Zebra-8-Victor. Hike."

He shot her a look, indicating he thought she was being a smart ass, "Very funny."

"I'm a funny lady." she smiled back before catching herself. She was falling into old habits again, bantering with him so easily when she knew she had feelings for him.

Feelings that she shouldn't be having. Feelings that weren't healthy. Feelings that she knew would only hurt her in the end.

There were many reasons why she felt so strongly for Harm, but chief among which was that he was so much like her childhood friend, Eddie. Beautiful Eddie. Kind Eddie.

Eddie who had time and again come to her rescue, saving her from everyone and everything. Saving her from every mess she made of her life.

Eddie who died in that accident on graduation night. That had been the final push she needed to fly right on her own - to finally accept Uncle Matt's help and become a Marine.

But not before Eddie rejected her romantically, so completely that she ran to another man. The wrong man.

Mac could see herself falling for a man like her partner, but she wouldn't put herself through that pain again. Those who didn't learn from history were doomed to repeat it, and Harm was one mistake she was not going to repeat.

Mac turned away from him, ignoring his warm smile as she made her way towards the interior of the ship.

oxoxoxo

Mac's flashlight cut through the gloom of the interior, searching the darkness for a sign. The glow of Harm's flashlight joined hers, illuminating the bulkhead number.

"Two-Delta-42. It should be down here." she said. It should be, but as far as Mac could see, it wasn't.

The beam of Harm's flashlight split off from hers and searched for more clues to their location. He read out what he saw, "Six-Tech-Victor. Eight-Tech-Victor." Then he saw what they were looking for. "There it is. Hole they cut in the void."

Mac joined Harm and saw the empty void. "Looks like they removed all the evidence."

As if to punctuate that point, the entire ship gave an unearthly groan. Mac looked up and around her in panic. "What was that?" she asked once the sound faded.

"It's metal contracting. Ship's cooling as the sun goes down." Harm said as he aimed his flashlight down the corridor.

And saw a faint glow of light coming from a neighboring chamber. Mac noticed it too as it faded from view.

"That is not metal contracting." Mac pointed out.

"Kill your light." Harm said as he turned his flashlight off.

"What?"

"Kill your light." he hissed a little bit harsher as he pushed her behind him. He raised his flashlight like a club, ready to strike at the approaching ball of light.

Mac turned off her light and waited in the dark. She felt Harm's body back into hers, pressing against her slightly. She could feel the warmth of his body even through their layers of clothing - he was like a sun god, radiating warmth and heat even in the coldest and darkest of places.

Harm saw the unearthly glow near and he reached out, swinging the heavy flashlight down. But he stopped when he saw the 9mm in his face.

Mac would have swung to action if she hadn't caught sight of the brass badge on the gunman's belt. A cop.

"Jesus, I almost shot your face off." the cop said in a Texan accent as thick as his mustache. He retracted his gun.

Harm glared at the man before lowering his flashlight. "I doubt it." At the cop's raised brow, Harm explained, "Safety's still engaged."

The cop checked it, Harm was right. "Well, then I guess I'm lucky you didn't bean me then. We don't look too kindly on people who assault cops."

"You're trespassing on government property."

"Yeah, well the badge means I work for the government too, Commander. Lieutenant Mark Falcon, Alameda Homicide." the mustachioed policeman introduced himself, offering a handshake.

Harm didn't take it. "You know who I am?"

"No. But you never forget how to read a sailor's stripes." Falcon pointed out Harm's shoulder boards. "US Army MP. Spent my year in Saigon chasing AWOLs and breaking up bar fights. I saw my fair share of swabbies."

Sensing Harm's continued belligerence, Mac stuck out her hand to shake Falcon's. "Major Sarah MacKenzie. This here is Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb."

"I thought Alameda was handing this over to JAG." Harm said pointedly.

"Oh, we are, Commander. I'm here on my own time. Never could pass up a good mystery." he said before taking in both of them. "And what were you two doing here in the dark? Or is that a personal question?" Falcon smirked at the very attractive Marine Major and the moderately handsome Lt. Cmdr.

Mac glanced over at Harm and clarified quickly. "We thought you were a ghost."

"Well, if the Commander hadn't stopped when he did, I might be one now." Falcon smiled winningly at Mac.

"So what do you think of the case so far?" Harm asked, trying to glean as much info from the cop.

"Well, I think the salvagers were looking for something other than rust when they cut into the hull. You don't need to check the void to make a scrap bid."

"You mean they were looking for the body?" Mac asked.

"No, I think they were looking for something more valuable." Falcon explained, "You know, treasure."

Harm smirked smugly, "Sorry, we stopped lining our ships with gold sometime in the 1640s."

"Well one man's trash is another man's treasure, Commander. You don't know how much old stuff gets sold for at auction. Especially if it came from a famous ship. And the Hornet has her fair share of history."

Harm warmed up a little to the man. "My father flew 167 missions over the North, half of them from this deck."

"Have you told him about this?" Falcon asked.

Harm replied solemnly, "He didn't come back."

Falcon's face softened with sympathy, "I'm sorry." he said, before steering the conversation into lighter territory, "Hey, have you guys had dinner? I know a little fish place where the branzino's as good as in Italy."

Mac looked at Harm. "Well, we haven't eaten since D.C."

Harm caught her look and his mood lightened some. "Yeah, and it's not a good idea to keep you starving." he said with a faint smile.

As they made their way out of the ship, Harm sensed... someone watching them. He turned around and shone his flashlight around one last time. And found nothing.

"What is it, Commander?" Falcon asked.

His eyes scanned the corridor, squinting to make details out in the dark. And still saw nothing. He gave up. "Nothing. Let's eat." he said, turning off his light.

Though he saw nothing, Harm still couldn't shake the feeling completely. Someone... or something was on this ship.

oxoxoxo

Night made the interior of the ship even gloomier than its already dank and oppressive self. The sound of something banging against metal echoed through the deserted corridors. It sounded as if a caged animal was working on getting into the ship.

Or worse - Out.

Mac found herself onboard the Hornet, except she was alone. Her flashlight danced about the corridor and revealed nothing. The corridor was deserted.

"Harm?" she called out when she didn't see her partner. She moved forward, hoping he'd just be around the bend. "Harm, where are you?"

The only reply came from the ship itself. It groaned and sighed, like a monster rousing from sleep, and hungry. Mac felt shivers run up her spine.

Mac then noticed that the air had become thick with fog. No, not fog. Smoke. Something burned, and it was another second before Mac realized it was the ship. The ship was on fire!

She rushed forward and came face to face with an uncontrollable blaze. And in the middle of it was the unconscious form of Harmon Rabb Jr.

"Harm!" she shouted and looked around for something to put out the fire. There was nothing. The blaze grew hot enough to make her skin bead with sweat and the air shimmered.

"Harm, get up." she shouted at him as she found a heavy blanket and pulled it over her head. She braved the flames and moved towards her stricken partner. She knelt down beside him and turned him over.

But she was too late. Burning steel fell from the ceiling.

Mac woke with a start, her body covered in a sheen of sweat as if she had just faced the fire of her nightmare. She looked around her tiny motel room before forcing herself to take deep calming breaths.

She flopped back on to her pillow before she took a look at the wristwatch she had on the nightstand. It read 4:37 and as it was still dark outside, it had to be morning.

Mac sighed as she tried to get back to sleep, and couldn't. Instead she hugged one of the pillows tightly to her body as she lay awake in the dark.

oxoxoxo

Harm entered the lobby of the motel the Navy had put him and Mac in and saw Mac already waiting for him. He didn't know how she managed to do it, to be so alert and so ready to go so early in the morning, while also appearing so stunning the rest of the day, whereas he needed coffee to just get his motor running.

Mac was leafing through one of the magazines that lay about when she saw him enter.

"You're 11 minutes late." she said as she put down the article about holidaying in sunny Australia.

He checked his watch. "Ten." he said smugly as they exited to the parking lot.

"Eleven." she corrected without batting an eye. "You probably dropped a minute when you reset your watch."

He checked his watch and fixed the discrepancy. He'd learn to trust her innate sense of timing. Trust and rely on. "Probably." he said as he reset his watch on their way to the car.

"UPS overnight for you." she said, handing him a brick sized paper box. "From La Jolla?" she asked as he opened it.

"The tapes. I had my mom send them." Inside the package was about ten or so music cassettes. "God, I haven't heard these since I was a kid."

"Let me guess. Billy Joel? Kris Kross? Kenny Rogers?" Mac made fun of him as she threw the car into gear.

"These are letter tapes from my father." he said putting in one of them into the tape deck.

Harm's father's voice filled the car cabin, _"Morning, Trish. At least, it's morning here on the South China Sea. Hot and muggy."_

"My mom cassetted the tapes my dad sent her from the Hornet in '66." Harm explained, his face revealing he was already halfway down memory lane.

_"Booney and I just flew CAP for some A-6s visiting Uncle Ho."_ Harm's father continued.

"Booney?" Mac asked.

"My dad's wingman. Tom Boone."

"The CAG on the Seahawk?" Mac asked and he nodded.

_"We're gonna grab some shut eye soon, but I wanted to make this first. I wish I had the time to do this more often but... well the Reds aren't rescheduling their missions to my convenience. At least they stay home whenever it gets too wet."_

Mac saw the smile on Harm's face and could almost imagine it mirrored his dad's as he said those words.

_"How's my boy? I hope you're playing these tapes so he won't forget my voice."_

Harm looked down guiltily. He hadn't listened to these tapes in years... since he was 16. Since too long ago, and not too long ago he had trouble remembering what his own father sounded like.

_"Trish, I gotta cut this short to make the mail. There's so much I want to say... so much we have to..."_

Harm Senior's voice cut off, obviously struggling to find words, or to choke back emotion. A second later he was back on, his voice once more strong and clear.

_"Give our son a big hug and a kiss for me. I miss you dearly. I'll be home soon. I love you guys."_

Harm ejected the tape. "That was recorded on the Hornet near the end of his first tour in '66. He came back from that one."

Mac heard the tone in his voice. Plaintive. Resigned. Afraid. Hopeful. "You're still hoping he's alive." Mac said.

"The chances are 10 million-to-1 against it, Mac." he said. "Still someone always wins the lottery, don't they?"

Mac nodded. She didn't have the heart to tell him that someone always did win the lottery. But more times than not, there was no winner.

oxoxoxo

"Single blow to the back of the head with a heavy blunt object." the middle-aged medical examiner said as he explained the cause of death for the sailor found inside the Hornet's void to Harm and Mac.

"Like a steel rod or a hammer?" Harm asked.

The ME contemplated both scenarios a second before answering, "Not a hammer, wound is oblique in shape. Maybe a rod, or another tool." he said before continuing, "Preliminary examination indicates that the deceased was a Caucasian male between 25 and 30 years of age."

Harm picked up a piece of cloth already bagged in clear plastic from one of the tables.

"Oh, that was found clutched in his right hand." the coroner said as he examined more of the skeletal remains.

"Clutched in a skeleton's hand?" Mac asked.

"Yes. You see, as the flesh deteriorated, the bones maintained their position." the doctor reenacted the pose most likely the victim adopted in his final moments. "Well, I'd say that he was clutching it when he died."

Harm turned the evidence over in his hand and saw velcro bands on the underside of the patch, "The South Vietnamese wore patches velcroed to the front of their flight jackets. How about if, in a struggle, our lieutenant snatched this off his murderer's jacket?"

"Oh, that's possible." the ME confirmed.

Mac found a watch in the stainless steel kidney tray. "I assume this was found with the remains?"

"Yes, around his left wrist. Guess your man here was not a southpaw."

Harm looked at the wristwatch, "Looks like a "Go to hell" watch."

"What's a "Go to hell" watch?" Mac asked him.

"It was standard issue to combat flight crews. No names or inscriptions in case they were captured. Should be a serial number, though."

Mac turned the watch around. "There is. Maybe we can trace it."

"You keep records that far back?" the county coroner asked, surprised.

"Hey, this is the Navy, doc." Harm smirked, "We have Popeye's enlistment papers on record somewhere. Big question is... where?"

oxoxoxo

2100 ZULU  
NAVY ARCHIVES  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

"Federal stock number Delta-3684. Lot number 4, 58771." Bud read out the serial number from the 'Go to Hell' watch the Commander had provided over the phone. He was on the floor surrounded by boxes and boxes of records about the USS Hornet.

With him, equally surrounded by boxes herself was Ensign Harriet Sims, the woman who one of these days would finally get a chance to have dinner with Bud... that is if he ever finished with this investigation.

"Five-eight-seven-seven-one." Harriet checked and exclaimed. "I found it."

Bud scooted closer to her, "Now, we're looking for serial number 19293..."

"Three-seven." she completed the string of numbers. "I know, Bud." she said with a sigh.

Bud realized he was being a bad boyfriend and turned to her "Oh, you're terrific, Harriet."

"Not so terrific." she said with a pout even as her fingers searched through musty files.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if I were so terrific, you wouldn't be dating girls like Millie." she said more than a little testily.

"I'm not dating Millie. Or anyone else, except you."

She looked up at him, "So does this mean we're exclusive?"

"Exclusive?" Bud asked.

"Guess not." Harriet said and Bud realized that he was now sitting next to a nuclear time bomb about to explode. He quickly moved to diffuse the situation.

"No, Harriet. We are. I mean, we're only... or I am at least... with you."

"What do you mean 'I am at least?' Are you saying I'm playing the field?" she glared at him.

"No. I don't mean that. Just that you're pretty enough to have any guy... I don't know why you'd choose me."

That admission blurted out diffused the Harriet bomb immediately. "Why wouldn't I choose you, Bud? You're funny, kind, an excellent kisser..."

"Harriet..." Bud blushed furiously.

Harriet continued as she searched the files, "Besides you're... number 192937."

"What?" Bud stared at her in shock. _He was Number 192937?_

Harriet picked up the file they were looking for and showed it to him. "The file, Bud. Serial number 192937."

"Oh, the file!" Bud sighed in relief as he grabbed the file and scanned it quickly, "Issued to a Lieutenant Brian Tate on September 13th..."

oxoxoxo

2204 ZULU  
USS HORNET  
NAVAL AIR BASE ALAMEDA, CALIFORNIA

"... 1974." Mac reported to her JAG partner as they waited outside their car on the pier where the old ship was docked. "He's our skeleton, Harm. He was listed as missing at sea on April 30, 1975."

Harm knew that date by heart. "That's the day Saigon fell. Lots of confusion that day, I'm surprised anybody noticed him missing that quickly. Who made the report?"

Mac checked, "... His wife, Phan Thi Hoa."

"She could have gotten a Skoshi Tigers patch..."

"I doubt it." Mac looked up from the file she had open on the hood of the car. "She reported him missing in San Diego. She's an American citizen, has been since she was eight."

"So you're saying..."

"The date Brian disappeared may be one the Navy investigator made up, just so they could close the case."

"Damn it." Harm cussed before checking the time. "Hey, wasn't Falcon supposed to meet us here at 1300?"

"He's six minutes late." Mac confirmed without looking at her watch.

Harm folded his arms across his chest, "Look, tell Bud to fax Lieutenant Tate's dental records to the Alameda medical examiner and see if there's a refugee list in the Hornet's records."

"Refugee list?"

"Someone wore a Skoshi Tigers patch when they tangled with the Lieutenant. Any US serviceman wearing one of those would have gotten a lot of strange looks. That only leaves..."

"Vietnamese passengers." Mac saw where he was going with that thought. "But Harm, Bud's been at it nonstop for 32 hours and 24 minutes."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "How do you do that?"

"My mother's Swiss." she said glibly and was rewarded with a heart-stopping grin.

"Okay, after he faxes the dental records and does a refugee search, he can hit the rack for a couple hours."

"Should he also do KP and run the Gauntlet while he's at it?" Mac said teasingly.

"Mac, he's a Naval Officer, he's pulled double shifts before. We all have."

"Yeah, and I can tell you I have some pretty choice words about that even now. But okay, what else?"

"When he's back at it, tell him to see if the Hornet suffered any hull damage in '75."

"Hull damage?" Mac asked as she jotted down the note.

"Yeah. If she had hull damage, they might have opened the void to repair it." Harm explained.

Mac's face lit up. "That'll give us timeline! That's brilliant, Harm."

"Oh, suddenly I'm not an ogre?" he grinned.

"I never said you were." she said back, her gaze shying away from his.

"No, but you were thinking it pretty loud." Harm said as he grabbed his walkman.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mac asked.

He looked back at her as he pulled on headphones, "I'm taking a walk with my dad."

oxoxoxo

Harm walked the flight deck of the old aircraft carrier, his father's voice keeping him company on his trip down memory lane.

_"Hi, Trish. I've got the day off and thought I'd give you and Harm a tour of the Hornet at sea. I'm standing on the flight deck where we're launching Corsairs."_

Harm stared out at the view. It was empty and quiet now but it was impossible not to imagine the sight of jets blasting off this small piece of tarmac in the ocean. Even now, the smell of jet fuel rose from every pore of the ship, smelling as foul and fresh as the day it was spilt.

_"I wish you could see how beautiful this is. Here goes the first one." _Harmon Rabb Sr. said just before the loud roar of a Corsair taking to the sky temporarily drowned out his voice.

After several seconds, Harm Sr. could be heard again,_ "You can't possibly hear me over all this noise. So I'm going inside where I can talk without shouting."_

Harm retraced his father's steps based on the tapes. He entered the hangar deck, the same one his father had stepped into over thirty years ago.

_"Here we are on the hangar deck, Trish. It's not nearly as noisy as topside, even though it's busier than hell. Pardon my French if Harm's hearing this."_

_"I don't know what news they're showing back home, but there's nothing to worry about. We're doing better than they want us to believe, and the squadron's still got a perfect attendance record, so looks like you'll be stuck with me for the time being, Trish."_

Harm paused at the top of the stairs. He heard the happiness in his father's voice but there was something else. Relief perhaps. Fatigue definitely. As light and easy as Harm Sr. sounded, it was clear he was putting on a brave front for mom.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way down the steep steps. Where something hit him from behind and gravity pulled him down the rest of the way.

Harm landed hard, his eyes tearing up instantly as pain shot through his body. Harm though saw movement - a man, a shape looking down at him... a tall man in khaki gear. Harm squinted and as unconsciousness started to close in, he made out faint details. Faint but familiar details.

"Dad?" Harm called out as his world grew dark.

* * *

Continued in **Next Chapter**

**AN:** Wouldn't mind hearing your thoughts about the episode so far :)


	2. Ep 1: Ghost Ship (Part 2)

**AN: **Hi everybody, hope you are enjoying the episode so far. Thanks to everyone who wrote a review. I'm glad to know you guys are reading this and maybe even enjoying it :)

I hope this episode is one of the longer ones in the season. This is because I concentrated on the case. This is purely because it is about Harm's quest for his father (which sets up To Russia With Love). I will cut down on writing about the cases and concentrate more on the progression of Harm & Mac (as well as Bud & Harriet) as a couple as this season goes on.

This is the final part of the episode Ghost Ship.

* * *

**Episode 1:  
**Ghost Ship (Part 2)

1325 ZULU  
USS HORNET  
NAVAL AIR BASE ALAMEDA, CALIFORNIA

Mac was sitting inside the car, waiting for Lt. Mark Falcon to show. She took the opportunity to talk on the phone to Bud, "Okay, Bud. Call once you get the results... and get some rest once you're done."

Mac heard the tap on the car window, making her look up... to see the smiling face of the man she was waiting on. Lieutenant Mark Falcon.

"Bye Bud." Mac said before hanging up and stepping out of the car.

Falcon looked at her apologetically. "Sorry I'm late, Major. I was waiting for a fax."

"Case related?" Mac asked.

"Yup. We narrowed down who our possible John Doe is."

"I can go one better. Lieutenant Brian Tate." Mac replied.

Falcon looked impressed. "Tate, huh? Figured it was him or Lieutenant Stevens."

"What do you mean?"

"The fax I was waiting for was a list of officers missing off the Hornet during the Vietnam War. If you eliminate the MIAs, there were only two - a Lieutenant Stevens who jumped ship in Hong Kong... and a Lieutenant Tate, who was lost at sea."

"Not bad." Mac smiled, admiring how he had deduced so much.

"But not as good as you guys." Falcon smiled in return, not taking his eyes off her. "So where's the Commander?"

"He's taking a walk with his father."

At Falcon's quizzical look, Mac explained. "Audio tapes his father made when he served onboard the Hornet. Harm's hoping it'll provide a clue."

Falcon nodded as they walked to the ship together, "How'd you like the branzino last night?"

"It was terrific." Mac answered honestly.

"Good. How about a San Francisco steakhouse tonight?" Falcon asked.

"Mmm, sounds wonderful, but Harm's practically a vegetarian."

"Wasn't figuring on asking him." Falcon said and Mac paused. She looked at him.

"Ah, I'm on a case, Mark." Mac said.

"So am I, but I don't live it 24-7. The man's dead. He ain't getting any less dead if we go out for a meal, Sarah."

Mac looked deeply embarrassed as she stammered a refusal. "Sorry, Mark. Harm and I..."

A vision of Harm flashed in her mind and she paused. She didn't know how but she could sense Harm was in danger. It was so clear it almost felt physical to her. She stared at the ship.

"Something's wrong." she said.

Falcon stared at her. "What?"

"Harm. He needs help." she said as she rushed up the gangplank to the ship.

oxoxoxo

SEPTEMBER 1969  
USS HORNET

Five-year old Harm tripped over the umpteenth knee-knocker as he made his way towards his dad. It wasn't that he was clumsy, it was because he was too short to navigate the corridor without it tripping him up.

He saw his father in the distance with his hand outstretched towards him, waiting for him. "Come on Lil' Hammer. You can do it. Just one step at a time and you'll get it."

Little Hammer - what his father and his friends called Harm Rabb Jr. Little Harm nodded as he picked himself up. He stopped running and deliberately picked his way towards his father.

Harm tried to focus on his father's face, but it was obscure - the bright light behind the older man so intense, the man himself was just a dark shape in contrast. The light got progressively brighter, until it was blindingly white but Harm concentrated on the silhouette of his father. He reached out to take his father's hand.

"Dad." he sighed as the bright light flooded his view.

oxoxoxo

Harm blinked his eyes clear and shied away from the flashlight beam shining directly into his eyes. As his vision returned to normal and he saw the concerned face of his partner.

"Mac?"

Relief filled Mac's eyes, "Hey, welcome back." she sighed.

"You all right, Commander? Falcon asked, looking down at him.

"Yeah. A little shaken up but fine." He started to get to his feet but Mac wasn't sold on his ability to just yet.

"We should get you to a doctor." Mac said staring into his eyes to determine if he was really fine.

"Whoa." A voice above them said prompting Falcon to draw his gun and aim it at the skinny man standing at the top of the hangar bay stairwell. "Whoa, unarmed man." the man held his hands up to show he indeed was.

"Who are you?" the police detective growled threateningly.

"Sibby Lonegro. I'm the guy who found the body in the void."

"What are you doing here?" Falcon asked even more pointedly, his gun not wavering.

"Well, this old piece of junk is a death trap, so I came by to make sure nobody ignored any chains sealing off the dangerous parts. Looks like we have one who did right there." he nodded, indicating Harm.

"What chain?" Harm asked.

Lonegro reached down and held up a length of chain at the top of the stairs. "You ripped right through it."

Harm protested as he got to his feet with Mac's aid. "There was no chain there. I didn't rip through anything."

"Maybe you don't remember. Shock can do that." Falcon said as he holstered his gun.

"We need to get you to a doctor, Harm." Mac repeated her concern.

"Major's right, that was a nasty fall." Falcon agreed.

"I'm fine. I've had harder carrier landings. Hell, I've had worse landings running into a car. Look, barely a scratch." he said looking at himself and saw the dirt stains on his once clean uniform, "Cleaning bill's gonna be a bitch though."

As Mac helped Harm up the stairs, Lonegro commented, "This place is a giant accident waiting to happen. Beats me why anyone would think she'd make a good museum."

"As opposed to what? Scrapping her to make lawn chairs?" Harm said angrily.

Lonegro though didn't see the insult in that. "Better. Razor blades."

"You're melting down the Hornet for razor blades?!" Harm glared at the smaller man.

"Figure the old girl has seen enough close shaves to give one." Lonegro remarked smugly and it took all of Mac's strength to hold Harm back from slugging the man.

"I think it's best you leave now, Mister Lonegro. We wouldn't want to have another accident happen onboard, do we?" Falcon said. His words and the implied meaning behind them weren't lost on the salvager.

"Right. Good idea." Sibby Lonegro said as he turned to leave.

"Oh, and Mister Lonegro. Don't leave town." Falcon warned and Sibby nodded his understanding before disappearing through the hatch.

Harm turned to Falcon. "Did he come down ahead of you?"

"No, he came down with us." the policeman replied.

Harm remembered, "He was with someone when he discovered the skeleton, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, his partner. Had a Greek name. Andy something."

"Kochifos. Andy Kochifos." Mac supplied the name.

"You don't think your fall was an accident?" Falcon asked.

Harm rubbed the back of his head and felt a small welt forming. He winced. "There was no chain there. After I fell, I saw..."

"Saw what?" Mac asked, making Harm turn in her direction.

"Somebody was up there looking down at me."

"Was it Lonegro or his partner?"

"No... it was a man in khaki."

"Khaki?" Mac repeated.

"Navy service." Harm explained. "I think."

"So you're saying you were attacked by a Navy officer?" Falcon asked.

"I... I don't know." Harm sounded really unsure. "I... I thought it might have been my dad."

"Your dad?" Falcon asked. "I thought you said he didn't come back."

"He didn't. He's still out there."

"It's been thirty years, Commander."

"So my timing sucks. Doesn't mean he's not still alive, Lieutenant." Harm said as he swayed slightly.

"I'm getting you to a doctor." Mac exhorted again and again Harm refused.

"I'm okay, Mac. I just need to get on deck. Possibly a few ibuprofen too."

"Let's get you back to the hotel, flyboy." Mac said, and the term of endearment was not lost on Falcon.

After helping Harm into the car, Falcon turned to Mac. "So you and the Commander, huh?"

Mac frowned at him, "What about me and the Commander?"

"Look, if you tell me you're involved with him, I'll back off."

Mac remained silent. Falcon pounced on that.

"You're not together?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem with dinner, Sarah?"

"It's not you. I'm flattered..."

"But you're not interested. I can take a hint. Your partner though might not."

"What do you mean?"

"He's so far up his head looking for his father that he doesn't see what's right in front of him. You don't deserve to be second place, Sarah."

Mac was silent again, her large brown eyes revealing for a second he had struck very close to home.

"Once he blows you off, give me a call." Falcon said quietly before walking away.

oxoxoxo

0100 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Bud Roberts sat in Harm's office as he spoke on the phone to Mac. Her voice came over the loud speaker.

"So they opened the void on the seventeenth?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. They had a large electrical fire the week before so they opened her up to check for damage. They sealed it about two days later, so that means Lieutenant Tate died sometime in that window."

Mac couldn't keep the excitement from her voice. "Good work, Bud. Did you get a hold of the passenger list from the time?"

"Yes ma'am." Bud replied as he sorted through the research, "And one of them was a Skoshi Tiger, Colonel Nguyen. But he was on a flight to Guam that did an Amelia Earhart."

Mac was puzzled, "Why was he being airlifted to Guam?"

"Records don't say, ma'am. But I checked the manifest, and besides the flight crew and Colonel Nguyen, there was an SOG officer onboard."

"SOG?"

"That was the cover used by the CIA in Nam. Interesting, isn't it, ma'am?"

"Why is it interesting?"

Bud stammered, "Well ma'am... that means the CIA had something to do with the disappearance of Colonel Nguyen, ma'am."

"That's a huge stretch to make just because there was a SOG officer onboard the same flight as Colonel Nguyen." Mac replied.

"Well... it just fits." Bud protested, and Mac had to admit even the coincidence was too great to ignore.

"Unfortunately it does. You're doing a great job, Bud. Keep it up."

"Thank you, ma'am." Bud replied, more than a little proud of himself as he hung up the phone and put his feet up on the desk.

"Does Rabb know you've got your feet on his desk?"

Bud scrambled to his feet, almost falling in the process, but not. He stood up straight and looked at an unwelcome sight.

"Webb."

"Roberts." Clayton Webb replied, equally curt.

The unwelcome sight though brought with him a most welcome smell - a piping hot pizza. Bud recognized the box - would be hard pressed not to since it was the best pizza in town.

"Is that...?" Bud asked, and Clay handed the box over to the eager, salivating Lieutenant.

"An Il Grande Supremo with extra cheese. Yes." Clay described.

Bud opened the lid and admired the pie - it was almost art in its own right. "How did you know that was my favorite?"

Clay frowned, "I didn't." and that was the truth. It was just the best thing they had in the store. He had brought it over as a sort of peace offering to Harm after all the issues they had with their last case. It was a long shot, but he also had a warning to deliver and that might get Harm to listen. If all else failed, he'd at least work on winning Harm's partner's stomach and hopefully her good graces. Clay needed all the friends he could get, and if he had MacKenzie, there was a good chance he'd get Rabb in the process too.

"Where's Rabb? Or MacKenzie?" Clay asked.

"They're in California, investigating a murder." Bud said absently before warning bells kicked in. "What favor do you need now?" he glared at the man in the very expensive three-piece suit.

"Wasn't aware I needed a favor." Clay replied.

"Well, whatever it is, the answer is no."

"Even if I offer to help your case?"

"What do you know of my... our case?" Bud eyed Clay.

"Enough to know you mentioned something about a CIA cover up."

Bud looked at the CIA man with growing suspicion. "What's it gonna cost me?"

"Jesus, do you want my help or not?!"

Bud debated the decision in his head, before finally answering, "Yes."

oxoxoxo

Mac was taking off her uniform when she heard the knock on her motel room door. Frowning, she buttoned her blouse back up as she walked over to look out the peephole, and was surprised by the identity of her visitor. She opened it to see Falcon.

"Mark, what are you doing here?" Mac asked the tall policeman from Alameda.

He smiled wanly, "Just came by to see if you changed your mind about dinner."

"I thought..."

"I was out of line earlier, Sarah. I mean, I know I don't have a shot, but that doesn't mean I still can't enjoy a nice meal with a beautiful woman while she's in town."

Mac blushed at his compliment, but still she hesitated. Falcon knew why and added, "You can bring your Commander with you. Maybe we can keep an eye on him together." he flashed her another apologetic smile, "So what do you say?"

Mac couldn't help but smile, "I'll say you're persistent."

"Persistence is a virtue." he grinned.

Mac crossed the hall to knock on Harm's door. "Harm?" There was no reply. She knocked and called his name louder and still there was no answer. She shared a concerned look with Falcon before opening the door.

It took all of two seconds to see that the room was empty. Harm wasn't here.

"He's gone." Mac panicked.

Falcon found that most of Harm's belongings were still there. "Doesn't look like he skipped town. Where would he go?"

Mac looked around and found that the box of audio tapes and Harm's walkman were missing. And suddenly she knew where he went.

"He wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" Falcon asked.

"He wouldn't go back to the ship." she said with certainty growing by the second that Harm indeed had returned to the ship and rushed out the door. Falcon followed quickly.

"He's dedicated, I'll give him that." Falcon remarked.

"No he's stubborn, but right now, he's crossed over to full blown crazy. Get your car." Mac ordered.

Falcon sighed quietly, "Guess dinner's out of the question then."

oxoxoxo

_"I remember the day Harm came out to visit the ship. Harm had troubles with the kneeknockers onboard, tripping over a couple of them but he never cried. He just picked himself up and kept going. I like that. It shows fortitude, which will take him a long way in life."_

Harm listened to his father's tapes and remembered the day in question. It was Family Day aboard the Hornet and his dad had taken him everywhere on this ship. Listening to his father's voice and possibly standing on the very spot where his father stood gave him an eerie feeling, yet it also made him feel... complete.

Harm's flashlight bounced off the walls of the Hornet. The darkness seemed to gobble up the beam of light and Harm could barely make out what lay a few feet ahead of him.

When a shadow ran across his beam.

"Hey." Harm shouted after the running figure. "Hey, wait!"

Harm ran after the fleeing figure and saw that it was a he, and he was dressed in khaki. "Wait!" The figure disappeared around the corner. Harm gave chase but tripped over a set of kneeknockers and fell into the cabin. His flashlight skittered away from his grasp, rolling to a stop only when a man's dress shoes stopped it. Harm couldn't see the man's face clearly - it was obscured by the darkness.

_"Well, here we are,_ _03 Lima 124-Papa - my home on the Hornet._ _I remember when Little Harm was in here. I picked him up and almost threw my back out. He's getting so big. I guess time has a way of sneaking up on you when you're not paying attention."_

"Dad?" Harm called out to the man who stood there unmoving and only staring down at spooked the figure though - voices coming down the corridor. The figure blended into the dark. "No Dad! Wait!"

But the figure didn't wait. Just as Mac and Falcon found Harm sprawled unconscious on the floor.

"Harm!" Mac rushed to his side and cradled his head. And she was shocked to see a trail of blood at his hairline. "Harm, you're bleeding."

"Mac, what are you doing here?"

"Why do you think, flyboy?" Mac answered, "Saving your bacon."

"Dad... did you see my dad?"

Mac looked worriedly at Harm and up at Falcon. The detective shook his head. "Looks like the Commander's hurt worse than we thought."

"I'm fine!" Harm said forcefully.

"Harm, it's okay. We'll get you out of here."

Falcon looked to call in for backup but he looked at his phone in disgust. "Damn, can't get a signal down here - too much steel. We're gonna have to get to the deck."

"You go on ahead." Mac said as she kept Harm still.

"I could watch him..."

"I'm not letting him out of my sight again, Mark." she said sternly and Falcon nodded.

"You guys stay here." Falcon said grimly before climbing the ladder leading back to the deck.

Once they were alone, Mac sat Harm down on one of the old bunks. "Harm, are you okay?"

As if released from a trance, Harm turned to her, "I... Mac? How did you find me?"

Mac couldn't explain it even if she tried. She just had... a feeling, as if something was pulling her in his direction. She just listened to it, and she had been led straight to him. "Guess I have cocky sailor radar installed, Harm. How did you get here?"

"I... I don't remember. But Mac, my dad. He's onboard." Harm said excitedly.

Mac looked at him sadly, "Harm, you've hit your head. You're not thinking straight right now. We've got to get you to the hospital."

"I know what I saw Mac! He was in this room!" Harm raised his voice.

"Did you? Could you tell me how your dad disappeared into thin air since he sure didn't walk out the door." Mac fired back.

Harm looked around. Sure enough the only way out was through the one door in.

Mac worried about her partner. "Harm..."

Harm saw the concern on her face and relented, "You're right." Harm lied. He knew what he saw but he played nice. "Did Bud get back with any info?" he asked instead.

Mac filled him in on everything she got from Bud and Webb - the electrical fire, Colonel Nyugen, the SOG on the flight, the plane going down due to sabotage.

But Harm sensed she was holding out on him. He tried to pin her with his gaze, "What is it Mac? What aren't you telling me?"

"Let's get you checked out first, flyboy, then..."

"No, no, no. You tell me now!"

Mac backed down, "Webb had a warning. The FSB is looking for you."

"The FSB? Why?"

"Webb said you'd know why."

Harm remembered a series of blurry memories. "Lagunov."

"Clay also said that Nyugen may have boarded the sabotaged flight with the same thing you found before." Mac grew impatient with all the secrecy. "Harm, what's going on?"

Harm looked at her and came clean. "When I was in Romania, Clay asked for my help. A man named Lagunov had compiled a list... of American MIAs the KGB were holding in Russia."

"Oh, God." Mac realized the implication, particularly for Harm.

Harm nodded, "My father might have been on that list." Harm shook off the growing headache. "But it was destroyed. Nyugen's list though exists. Mac, this could be my second chance!"

"How Harm? The plane went down in Guam." Mac reminded him.

A thought flashed in Harm's mind "Where did Nyugen bunk?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Because someone told me once - why smuggle something on you when you can have someone... or something else going in the same direction carry it instead?"

"Like what?" Mac asked.

"Like this ship, Mac. This entire ship is one giant bag, one that no one would bother to search. He hid the list onboard!" Harm shouted excitedly.

"Wait a minute. How is Tate involved in this?" Mac asked.

Harm's mind was flying, ideas were connecting, forming conclusions. "Tate must have seen the list. Or he didn't just see it, he must have seen where Nyugen hid it."

"So Nyugen killed him to keep him quiet." Mac was sure she was contracting Harm's madness but it was impossible not to see the plausibility.

Harm rose to his feet and Mac tried to pull him back. "Harm, sit down, please."

"No, it's okay. I just need a little air."

They waited for Falcon to return before Mac helped Harm out of the room and into the corridor. On their way out, Harm spoke.

"He's trying to tell me something. Maybe where the list is hidden."

"Who?"

Harm was quiet, providing the answer. Mac looked up at her dazed and confused partner. "Harm, your dad isn't onboard. You've been listening to his tapes, walking in his footsteps. Maybe the concussion caused you..."

"I'm not hallucinating. I saw him. I saw my dad."

"An ambulance is on the way." Falcon reported.

"I'm not leaving until I find that list!"

As if an answer to his wish, Harm looked up and saw the figure in khaki standing at the end of the hallway. Harm changed course.

"Harm, this ain't the way to the deck." Mac pulled on Harm's arm, but he resisted.

"Trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Ye-yeah?"

"Then walk with me." Harm said as he continued further. Mac and Falcon followed without another word.

Like a ghost, the figure always appeared at the end of the corridor with his back facing Harm, waiting. Harm followed with Mac in tow. He turned around the corner and this time the figure stood next to a cabin door. He went inside.

Harm followed and entered the cabin. The cabin was empty, no one was there.

"Harm?" Mac looked up at him worriedly as he played his father's letter tape.

_"It shows fortitude, which will take him a long way in life."_ Harm fastforwarded a little and found the passage he wanted.

_"Here we are, 03-Lima- 124-Papa. My home on the Hornet."_

"What's the number?" Harm asked.

Mac looked up at the cabin number painted on the bulkhead above, "226-Papa."

Harm deflated, "This isn't my dad's."

"Harm, you were hallucinating."

"You're right." Harm said, and he turned wide eyes to his partner. "Mac, I didn't see my dad."

"Thank god." Mac replied.

"I saw Lieutenant Tate!"

"Oh god." This was getting from bad to worse.

Harm continued unabated, "These are his quarters. Don't you see? He led me here. He wants me to find the list."

"Harm, until twenty minutes ago you didn't even know about the list! We need to get you to a hospital." Mac exhorted.

"Sarah's right, Commander." Falcon agreed.

However Harm wasn't listening to either of them. He sat on the bunk and rewound the letter tape to a section he'd heard before.

_"Most of the guys celebrate the end of a mission with a shot of bourbon, but I have mine when I'm making your tape. Tom and I keep a bottle hidden in the wall behind our racks. Here's to you and Harm, Trish."_

Harm touched the wall behind him on the bed and felt a slight give. He reached in and sure enough, there was a small green book, yellowing with age. He saw the surprised looks on both Mac's and Falcon's faces and opened the book.

"It's in Vietnamese. Except for the names and the dates."

He flipped through the pages and found the one entry he was looking for. July 24, 1970 - Harmon Rabb.

"He's in here." Harm said with tears beginning to cloud his vision. "He was transferred to Russia. He could still be alive. I'll get him."

Harm got up and almost lost his balance. Mac steadied him. "You should get to the hospital."

"No, I need to chase down..." Harm said, his speech beginning to slur. His concussion was catching up to him.

"I can keep the book for you while you're at the hospital." Falcon reached for the book but Harm held it away. He stared Falcon right in the eye.

"No."

"Commander..."

"I'm not letting go of the book even if it kills me."

Falcon relented. "Okay."

Harm slumped heavily against Mac, when Mac got a funny feeling. She heard the telltale click of gun being cocked and swung her arm out. Her hand knocked Falcon's pistol aim and the shot ruptures one of the electrical units of the ship, sparking a fire.

"Falcon?" Mac exclaimed in shock. She saw Falcon raise his gun again at them and went into overdrive. Pushing Harm aside, she kicked the gun from Falcon's hand, and delivered a sharp chop to Falcon's neck.

But Falcon was built tough. He grabbed Mac's wrist and moved to break it when she lowered the heel of her shoe sharply against Falcon's knee, causing him to fall and pull her down. She used the momentum to smash an open palm strike against Falcon's nose. His face exploded in blood and he let go of Mac.

The fire ran up the side of the old cabin, quickly growing out of control. Mac quickly grabbed Harm and pulled him out of danger. They started down the corridor when one of the other doors popped open and flames burst forth almost cooking them.

"Damn it, it's everywhere." Mac cursed when she saw that the flames blocked their way down one corridor. "Passageways are acting like wind tunnels."

Perhaps it was the heat, or the concussion but Harm saw the ghost Lieutenant Tate in the distance, going down the stairs. "Down." Harm said.

"What?"

"Down! Fire rises. We go below." Harm said inelegantly and stumbled in the direction of the stairs. Mac followed.

Once the flames got a taste of all the air in the corridor, they raced outward in all directions. Seeing the flame chase them Mac quickly pulled Harm down the stairs. Unsteady, Harm's hip hit the rail, and it jostled his grasp. The book fell out of his hand and onto the deck above.

"The book! The book!" Harm shouted at Mac. Harm tried to go back but she pulled him back, saving his life as flames found the oxygen in the ladderwell very much to their liking, expanding quickly.

"I'm not gonna let you get killed for some book."

"It's not some book Mac. That's my father's whereabouts. I can find him."

"You're not going to find him if you don't live through this! Harm, we'll come back for it. Come on."

Harm reluctantly followed her as Mac led them to safety. Unfortunately everywhere she turned, either the doors were welded shut or the flames had gotten there first. The ceiling above creaked and groaned. With so many hatch doors welded shut, they soon found themselves cornered. Mac struggled for breath.

Harm turned to her. "We've got to shut the hatch. The fire is sucking all the air out."

The both of them struggled with the hatch door but soon had placed it between them and the open flames. Mac slumped back against Harm before realizing his predicament. "How are you?" she asked.

"Very tired." he said, his eyes fluttering between consciousness and sleep.

"We're not out of danger yet, flyboy. Think we can wait it out?" Mac asked.

The ship answered her question for them when it creaked, groaned and parts of the ceiling fell all around them. "I don't think so. We gotta get out of here, now."

"How?!" Mac shouted over the growing roar of fire all around them. It was like her nightmare all over again.

When Harm saw the familiar figure of the khaki suited Navy officer standing in between flames. "There! That way!"

"Are you sure?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Mac followed Harm's lead, racing through the maze created by flames and sealed doors. He never took a wrong turn and soon they found themselves out in open air. And a few seconds after that were safely on land. Mac stared at her partner.

"I don't know how you did that." she remarked.

"I didn't do it." Harm replied as he looked back at the ship. And saw the faint figure salute him. "He did." Harm said and saluted back.

oxoxoxo

1800 ZULU  
ALAMEDA COUNTY HOSPITAL

Mac stuck her head in through the hospital room door to find her partner awake in bed. "Hey buddy, I wouldn't have bet anyone could confine you to a hospital bed for two days."

Harm smiled at the sight of her, his flyboy grin widening by the second. "I slept the first day. After that, the nurse threatened to tie me down if I so much as stuck my nose out the door."

"Kinky." Mac said with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yellow light, Major."

"Oh, come on, Harm. Haven't we reached the point where we can drop the traffic signals?"

"Absolutely. I ever tell you why a female Marine is like the Energizer Bunny?" he said playfully.

Mac rolled her eyes, "On second thought, let's not. How you feeling?"

"You mean aside from the headache and nausea? Good. Alive. How about you?" he returned the concern.

"Good. Alive." she smiled back.

"Thanks Mac. I... I wouldn't have gotten out of that if it weren't for you."

"Hey, you're the one that led us off the Hornet."

"And you were the one that stopped Falcon from shooting me for the list. The list!" Harm remembered. "Is it okay?"

Mac looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry Harm. After the firefighters got through the ship, I went back and couldn't find it. There's nothing left."

Harm closed his eyes, his pain etched clearly on his face. He leaned back against his pillows. "That list was a clue to finding my father Mac. But now I know... he was in Russia."

He looked out the window, not really staring at anything. "I'll find him, Mac. One day, I'll find him."

oxoxoxo

"Please fasten your seat belts for our final approach into Moscow International." the pilot's voice came over the plane's intercom.

The first class cabin was spacious and luxurious. A stewardess walked by was making sure everyone had their seatbelts buckled when she noticed one of the passengers, covered with various bandages was sitting all alone. She leaned down, "Sir, do you require any help?"

The man looked up, his bandaged nose masking some of his features but there was no mistaking who it was - the man Harm and Mac knew as Mark Falcon. "No, I'm fine." he replied in fluent Russian before looking out the window again.

Before he turned his attention to the small, slightly charred green book in his hand - Colonel Nyugen's list.

* * *

**Next Episode:** The Court-Martial of Sandra Gilbert (3x02)


	3. Ep 2:The Court-martial of Sandra Gilbert

**AN:** Hi everyone. Thanks so much for all the feedback so far. I appreciate all your words, and I read all your critiques - some of which I've used to improve my retelling of this wonderful series.

In my discussions with Frenchick10, I realize that I never explained directly what I was doing with this series. I will do so now: This is a **reboot** of the **entire** JAG series.

There are three things I hope this reboot will improve on. 1) Harm & Mac's relationship. 2) the political and CIA storylines. and 3) the supporting characters being less annoying.

This is a retelling from the beginning and hopefully up to the end. It is different from any other fic I've tried before or since - as this isn't just a shipper fic, but my love letter to JAG the TV series. So I beg for your patience, and I hope all of you will enjoy this ride, with all the twists and turns it may take :)

Enough about me. Now on with the show.

* * *

**Episode 2:  
The Court-martial of Sandra Gilbert**

1503 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The plump form of Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts rushed in the doors of the JAG bullpen, carrying a stack of files as tall and wide as he was. His legs carried him as quickly as he could move them, ignoring his labored breath and unfortunately, his surroundings.

"Watch out, Bud." he heard the voice of one of the senior attorney's at JAG - Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie shout a warning, but it was too late.

Bud hit the edge of a desk and suddenly gravity was ripping the box filled with files from his hands. The box sent several files flying across the floor. Bud looked on in horror and was instantly on all fours trying to pick up the files he dropped.

Mac crouched down next to him and helped, "Big rush there Bud. Where's the fire?"

Bud looked up at her with a sheepish look on his face, "No ma'am. Just Commander Rabb's expecting these files immediately so..."

At mention of her partner's name, Mac looked in the direction of his office. Lieutenant Commander Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. had been a veritable bear the last fortnight, as he had gone after anyone and any case with fearsome single-minded ruthlessness. He was adding to his reputation as JAG's resident legal hotshot, but he wasn't winning himself any friends with that attitude.

Mac sighed. "He's really got you on a short leash, huh?"

Bud nodded, "Ever since the case on the Hornet ma'am. Not that I'm complaining ma'am." Bud was quick to add, making it known he wasn't really badmouthing a superior officer.

Mac knew the reason for Harm's bad mood, had even skirted dangerously close to experiencing it herself on a couple of occasions over the last two weeks.

Harm was still seething from the fact that he'd found Colonel Nyugen's list - the one which stated clearly that his father had indeed been shipped to Russia almost thirty years earlier - onboard the Hornet, only to lose it during their escape from the burning ship.

"Lieutenant Roberts." Harm's voice cut through over the chatter of the bullpen effortlessly. He didn't raise his voice by much, but everyone in the office was determined to not be the target of Harm's foul mood. In fact, several sympathetic gazes fell upon Bud - the poor sap who had to face the Lt. Cmdr's ire.

"Yes sir, on my way sir!" Bud shouted back in reply as Mac deposited the final files on top of the huge stack he carried.

Mac gave the young lieutenant some moral support, "Yeah, well if it makes you feel any better, Bud, the whole office is not complaining with you." she said with a consoling smile before allowing Bud to face Harm.

Harm worked his keyboard computer furiously, his fingers flying over the keys, clacking them with such force it almost seemed like he was punching the letters themselves onto the screen.

Bud entered with the big box, "Sir, the files you asked for."

Harm didn't look away from the screen and instead waved absently for Bud to set the files down on his desk.

"Is there anything else, sir?"

Harm didn't respond for a second as he read his report. Then as if he just realized Bud there he looked at the man. "Hmm? No. Dismissed." he said, allowing the junior officer to leave.

Mac was outside his office, eavesdropping on the curt exchange and catching the unhappy expression on Bud's face. Mac shook her head - she didn't want to do this, but someone was going to have to enter the den of the tiger, and hopefully tame him some.

Mac hoped he won't take her head off in the process. She knocked on the frame of his door, and frowned when he didn't seem to look up from the files.

"Hey there stranger. You see a sailor about yea tall, answers to the name Harmon Rabb Jr. and is usually not a giant pain in the butt?" she asked light-heartedly.

Harm's head popped up. "What do you want, Mac?" he said neutrally - though it wasn't that far removed from frustration.

She came to stand before his desk. "Nothing, just wondering if all this scowling is making you feel any better."

His expression softened and he leaned back in his chair. His facade crumbled a little and Mac could see just how depressed he really was.

"I was so close Mac."

Mac closed the door behind her and said softly. "I know Harm. I'm sorry."

Harm got up and picked up the picture of him and his father that he kept above his filing cabinet.

"All this time, he was in Russia, Mac." Harm laughed at himself sardonically, "I was looking for him in the wrong place all these years."

"How were you supposed to know the KGB got the NVA to send American POWs to Siberia, Harm?"

"I know that Mac." he whirled around, pinning her with a hurt gaze. "Logically, I know that. But it doesn't change the fact that... that I..."

A knock on Harm's door interrupted them. "Enter." Harm ordered and Petty Officer 2nd Class Jason Tiner opened the door. He looked at both JAG attorneys.

"Sir, ma'am. The Admiral wants to see you both in his office."

"We'll be there, Tiner." Mac said, hoping Harm would complete his thought.

"Immediately, ma'am." Tiner emphasized.

Harm looked at his pretty JAG partner, "We better get going before he sends in a SEAL team after us, Mac." he said, his tone considerably lighter than before. And this time, he even managed a small smile in her direction.

oxoxoxo

THE NEXT DAY  
2020 ZULU  
CAMP PENDLETON, CALIFORNIA

First Lieutenant Sandra Gilbert was the Marine Corps poster girl for women in combat. She was pretty, maybe even pin-up pretty, but more than that, as a Cobra attack helicopter pilot, she more than held her own against her male counterparts.

She was popular, and famous.

And was being accused of committing adultery with an enlisted man in her unit.

Mac and Bud been sent by their CO - Admiral A.J. Chegwidden to investigate. Mac had actually petitioned to head the case, and she was pleased that the Admiral trusted her enough to assign it to her.

Of course she was still pissed as all get out, as when she was leaving, Harm had antagonized her when he implied she might go easier on the First Lieutenant during her investigation.

oxoxoxo

"Hope you don't go easy on her just because you feel sympathetic to her cause, Mac." Harm said warningly.

Mac looked up at him, confused. "And why is that, Harm?"

"Well, you might take it a little easier because she's one of you."

Mac felt her hackles rise, "That's a very sexist remark, Commander!" she fired back.

"What?" he looked at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"You're implying that I will do less than my best just because Lieutenant Gilbert and I are both women!" she said angrily.

He locked her with a hard glare of his own. "I meant you might go easier on her because she's a fellow Marine, Mac. But if you're already gonna play the gender card, maybe you aren't the best person to lead this investigation."

"Well, Commander, _I_ can be objective. I'm not the one who has his panties in a twist." she said as she grabbed her briefcase and stormed past him out of the office.

oxoxoxo

She hated that part of him - the smug part that was so cocksure he'd win every case simply because of his dazzling smile and his sandbagging ways. She'd seen it often enough to know two things.

One, both his smile and his sandbagging were effective. And two, she was going to have to stop being affected by either.

Worse was to come. Mac had stepped into the office of Lieutenant Colonel Adam Turner, the head of the Cobra helicopter units at Camp Pendleton, and Lieutenant Gilbert's CO. She discovered that he had already decided he had enough evidence to recommend a court-martial and had signed off on that.

Mac had been assigned the prosecution, a political decision made above Admiral Chegwidden to ensure that it didn't look like the military was a men vs women club. So Mac had the distinct honor of trying to discredit another female Marine.

And who had the honor of being the hero? Her partner, Harmon Rabb Jr. of course.

oxoxoxo

2030 ZULU  
CAPITOL HILL  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Harm walked through the marble halls of the House of Representatives at a steady rate, his perfect military posture making his entire 6'4" frame even more impressive amid the grand setting. Dressed in summer whites, he cut a dashing figure among the dark suits that filled the corridor.

He was quickly making his way down to the front steps of the building when a female voice called out to him.

"Lieutenant Commander Rabb?"

Harm turned around to find an attractive, statuesque woman walking towards him. She was dressed for business, though the string of pearls around her neck also let him know that she was equally dressed to impress. She was followed down the steps by a man in a black suit - a driver perhaps, but definitely security.

The woman extended her hand out to him as she introduced herself. "Bobbi Latham."

"Miss Latham." Harm shook her hand, "How may I help you, ma'am?"

Bobbi fell into step with Harm, "I heard you've been chosen to defend Lieutenant Sandra Gilbert in her court-martial."

Harm raised an eyebrow at that. She explained her knowledge, "I forget you military types don't always know who keeps your paychecks rolling in. Congresswoman Roberta Latham, Detroit."

His eyes widened and he stiffened his posture, "Congresswoman. I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. I'm sure you're not the type to know every woman in Washington off the top of your head." she said with a smile. "But about the woman we both know." she returned to topic.

"Yes ma'am. I'm flying out to Camp Pendleton right now to meet with Lieutenant Gilbert."

"I understand the prosecution, Major Sarah MacKenzie is a colleague."

"Yes ma'am, she is."

"Think you can beat her?"

"I've beaten her once before." Harm gave her a self-satisfied smile.

"And she you." Bobbi shot back a smile of her own. She obviously had done her homework.

"I suppose you feel she's a better choice to defend Lieutenant Gilbert?"

"I do. But then again, I keep getting reassured you're the best man for the job."

"You disagree?"

"I don't need the best man for the job, Commander. I need the best person." Bobbi and Harm were standing next to a black stretch limo. "My ride. Care to join me?"

"I am on a tight schedule to AFB Andrews, Congresswoman."

"I know. I'm on the same flight." Bobbi replied.

His surprise must have shown on his face because the Congresswoman smiled brightly. "Get in, Commander." she said and Harm obeyed.

Once inside the car, Harm found himself sitting facing Bobbi. He finally recovered enough to ask, "Ma'am, why are you..."

"...taking a personal interest in this matter?" she completed his sentence. "Because it's one of the reasons why I got elected, Commander. To make sure women aren't being treated unfairly in male dominated fields."

Bobbi paused as she took in Harm's appearance. "You know, I should thank you."

"Why is that, Congresswoman?"

"For clipping Congresswoman DeLong's wings."

Harm's tangle with Congresswoman Adele DeLong on one of his previous cases had resulted in her losing a lot of her support up on the hill.

"The Congresswoman decided to place Lieutenant Isaacs back in the cockpit herself. I didn't do anything." Harm recapped as briefly as possible.

"True. Adele did bring it on herself."

"I suppose you didn't like her?"

Bobbi looked at him in surprise. "She's a close personal friend, Commander."

Seeing Harm's surprise at her seeming callousness, Bobbi explained, "But you see, the louder she beat that drum about women in the military, the more of a sideshow we became."

Harm's mind was now in a tailspin, "You don't believe there should be more women in the military?" he asked, confused at Bobbi's stance.

"It doesn't matter how many women there are, Commander. All I care about is that women get the same fair treatment and opportunities as their male counterparts. Equality isn't about numbers."

Bobbi went on, "Personally, I couldn't care if you're male or female, black, white, Hispanic or Asian. Straight or gay. We're all created equal, deserve to be treated with the same common decency, and given an equal chance to succeed anywhere."

"That's a great message, Congresswoman."

"Unfortunately, it's one that we keep forgetting." she said darkly.

oxoxoxo

0243 ZULU  
CAMP PENDLETON, CALIFORNIA

Bud heard the knock on the door of the small office he and Mac shared and went over to open it.

"Commander!" he said, alerting Mac who looked up from her own desk. "You're here."

"Hi Bud. Mac." Harm greeted her as he entered.

"You sure got here fast, Commander." Mac said with a cocked eyebrow raised at him. She was still a little miffed at him for his words when she left Washington.

"Yeah, got an upgraded ride." he gave her a sheepish and almost apologetic smile.

"A Tomcat?" Mac asked, surprised.

"No, I don't think I could swing that kind of a ride for the Commander." Bobbi Latham stepped into the office and took in the pretty Marine Major. "You must be Major MacKenzie. Congresswoman Roberta Latham."

"Ma'am." Mac said as she shook her hand.

"Please, call me Bobbi." Bobbi took a look around the small office and noted the almost decent facilities. "Hmm, at least the Corps didn't put you in a storage closet."

"Would you like coffee, ma'am?" Bud asked, and Bobbi nodded. Bud soon disappeared in search for some decent coffee. Bobbi made herself comfortable in one of the chairs.

Later as she sipped on her coffee, Bobbi observed the familiarity among the two JAG partners as they discussed the case. They sparred verbally with lightning quick ease, as words quickly became wordplay, drawing smiles from one another though they tried their best to keep it hidden. And sometimes they would frustrate the other by seemingly knowing what the other was thinking. Like two chess grandmasters stealing from each other's playbook.

Harm left to interview Lt. Gilbert, but Bobbi stayed to talk with Mac. She wanted to know if the JAG Corps were seriously jeopardizing Mac's career by placing her in this unenviable position. Win and Mac might be held up as a woman hater. Lose, and she might be labeled incompetent.

"Could you please clear up something that's been bothering me for a while?" Bobbi asked.

"What is it, ma'am? Bobbi." Mac corrected herself.

"Why is Lieutenant Gilbert the only one being court-martialed here? What about the man she is accused of being with, Gunnery Sergeant Frankl?"

"He was already NJP'd." Mac explained. "Non-judicial punishment."

"So he gets off with a slap on the wrist while the Lieutenant loses her career?" Bobbi asked.

"She is an officer, he's enlisted. She's supposed to know better." Mac said.

"The Commander has pointed out that no one actually witnessed the two of them doing anything wrong. Are we stringing up officers based on innuendo nowadays?"

"They were seen being extremely friendly..."

"A hug and a kiss on the cheek hardly constitute an adulterous relationship. By their own admission they are close friends. Are you saying that a woman can't be just friends with a man, Major?"

Panic flashed in Mac's eyes before she hid it. "I'm not saying that."

Bobbi caught the look, but had no idea what it was about. "Then what are you saying?"

"I believe every case is different, ma'am." Mac replied non-commitally.

"Really? Are you and Harm any different?" Bobbi asked, shocking Mac.

After a few seconds of shocked silence, Mac rediscovered her voice, "Congresswoman?"

"What you two have doesn't seem all that different from what Lieutenant Gilbert and Gunnery Sergeant Frankl have. You both work together, often for long hours under stressful situations. And you two are friendly, maybe even uncommonly close. So what makes you so different from Lieutenant Gilbert?" Bobbi asked.

"Because we haven't crossed that line, Congresswoman." Mac said with certainty.

"And you never will?"

"Yes ma'am."

Bobbi fixed the Marine Major with a hard gaze, "I'll hold you to that Major."

oxoxoxo

Harm had little success in getting either Lt. Gilbert or Gunny Frankl to open up with him. They were definitely hiding something, maybe even the relationship that they claimed to not have, and that rankled Harm. He was trying to save their careers and they were more interested in protecting each other.

For some reason, Mac had shied away from his dinner invitation to discuss their case. Bud would have been happy to join him, but by then Harm had a more intriguing offer on the table.

He walked into the upscale restaurant, his uniform instantly drawing the eye of every woman in the place. The maitre'd saw to it he was shown quickly to his table... where Bobbi Latham was already waiting.

"Nice of you to make it, Harm. Hungry?"

"I could be persuaded to be, Congresswoman." he flashed her his flyboy grin.

"It's after hours, Harm. Call me Bobbi." she smiled back brightly and ordered the salad for herself. Harm followed suit and soon both were served.

"So what's your read on the case?" Bobbi asked him as they dug into their respective meals.

"Well, it would be easier if Lieutenant Gilbert gave me something to work with."

"What more do you need? She already said she didn't have an affair with Frankl."

"Yeah, but she also didn't stop seeing him as ordered."

"Would you stop seeing Mac if you were ordered?" Bobbi looked at him with an amused gleam in her eye. Harm caught it.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, Bobbi. Don't know if you noticed but Mac and I aren't exactly firm friends at the moment."

"I find that hard to believe. Women like you, Harm. Mac likes you."

"She'd like to wring my neck."

"I get that feeling a couple of times a day, Commander. But it passes. Sandra likes you."

"Well, she has a funny way of showing it."

"And I don't dislike you as much as Adele said I would." Bobbi took a sip of her wine, "So ever been married?"

"Do you always ask this many questions over dinner?" Harm asked, more amused than put off.

"I'm nosy by nature." she replied, before waggling her eyebrows, "So, ever been married?" she repeated.

"No." he replied with a smile.

"Ever been tempted to?" Bobbi asked playfully and saw his smile disappear completely.

She wasn't a dummy. "What happened?" she asked.

Harm picked at his salad quietly for a while. "She died." he said softly.

"In combat?" Bobbi asked tentatively.

"Murdered."

Bobbi reached for his hand to convey her sympathy, "I'm sorry."

Harm accepted the comforting hand for a second before pulling away. "How about you?" he asked, trying to fix a smile on his face once more.

Bobbi was only too happy to change the subject, "Oh, I'm married to the job. Believe me, no one wants to see a woman of color succeed less than my colleagues."

Harm's brow furrowed, "Why?"

"Fear. They like the current system as it is because it serves them well. People like me, we're wild cards. We don't play by the old rules. We threaten to bring real reform. Real change."

"Sounds like that's a good thing."

"Hmm, sometimes the price of change comes at too high a price." she smiled sadly as if remembering something from her past. "Tell me Commander, what do you see when you look at me?"

Harm looked at Bobbi and decided truthfulness was just as good as flattery. "A highly intelligent, motivated and successful woman."

"You make me sound like a CIA profile." she laughed. "What else?"

"I think you're pretty impressive."

"Is that Navy speak for big and ugly?" she shot him a playful grin.

His own smile sparked to life, "No. You're definitely not big and ugly."

"Would you believe I grew up poor in Detroit?"

His eyebrows arched in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"And I graduated top of my class at Yale Law?"

"You don't have to keep impressing me, Bobbi." Harm laughed.

"Did you know my father was once a Congressman himself? John Latham."

Harm stared at her, "But you said you grew up poor."

"I did. See, back in the day, a white man could have anything he wanted in this country... except a black wife." she said. "His family disowned him after he married my mother. He gave up his family, his career and his money for my mother and me." Bobbi's head dipped. "And a few years later, he gave up his life."

"How?"

"Gunned down in front of the supermarket where he worked." she looked back up. "There was nothing more dangerous than having a black family in 1968."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. My father's death made me who I am today. We are who we are because of our parents."

And Harm realized that maybe he and Bobbi weren't all that different after all.

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac were giving as good as they got in court, and neither seemed to be making ground against the other. Mac still retained the upper hand, she had the full weight of the UCMJ while Harm was fighting blind without the cooperation of his client. But he had a powerful ally in Bobbi, and that backstopped him for a while.

Until he discovered the reason for Sandra Gilbert's stonewalling.

She was pregnant.

With Gunnery Sergeant Max Frankl's kid.

"So she's guilty." Harm said resignedly to Bobbi when she broke the news to him.

"She was in love with him." Bobbi explained.

"And that makes it okay?"

"Love makes fools out of all of us, Commander." Bobbi replied softly. "Did you know I was once engaged to a Marine Colonel?"

"What happened?"

"We both felt what we were doing was far more important. I didn't want to be his wife any more than he wanted to be mine."

"Do you regret it?"

"Do I regret choosing a career over love? Not often and not much. But I do understand why Sandra chose love over her career. In an ideal world, we wouldn't need to choose." Bobbi looked at him, asking for his understanding. "But then again, we don't get to choose who we fall in love with, do we?"

Harm understood only all too well, "No, we don't."

"Just keep Sandra out of the brig, Harm. Her baby doesn't deserve to be born behind bars."

oxoxoxo

Harm worked out a settlement with Mac. Sandra Gilbert agreed to an administrative separation with a forfeiture of all benefits, in return for all further charges against her being dropped.

She also pleaded for all charges against Max Frankl to be dropped. She didn't want to drag his family - especially his two young daughters - through more hell.

Bobbi though had one more trick up her sleeve. She saw to it that Sandra Gilbert got a chance to prove herself capable as a pilot, putting her back in the air one more time to complete her trials.

And Sandra Gilbert aced it, qualifying as the best Cobra pilot among all the units. While it wasn't a victory for all involved, it was the best outcome anyone could hope for.

One day, maybe the men in the military would view women as valued allies, and not as the weaker sex. And one day, maybe love wouldn't be considered a weakness in the military but a strength.

But that day, if it ever came, was a long way in the future. Perhaps it may never come to pass. But there was still hope.

oxoxoxo

On their flight back to D.C. Mac looked at Harm desperately trying to catch some shut eye but failing to do so.

"Hey there, flyboy. Can't sleep?"

He turned towards her and flashed her a tired, but no less mesmerizing smile. "Wouldn't think I'd miss sleeping on a rack on a carrier, but these seats could teach interrogation techniques."

Mac chuckled but it came out sounding sad. Harm picked up on it.

"Mac, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." she said. How could she tell him that she was thinking about the case, that she felt guilty prosecuting a woman whose only crime was to exercise bad judgment. How could Mac tell Harm that she felt like a hypocrite because she had done the same... maybe even worse than Sandra Gilbert in the past? The only thing that separated them was that Mac had been lucky.

"You know you can talk to me if you need to, right?" he said.

"I know." she smiled. It wasn't that she couldn't. It was she didn't know how to. "Thanks."

Mac leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and putting her past behind her once more... where it couldn't hurt her.

* * *

**Next Episode:** The Good Of The Service (3x03)

**AN:** Yeah, things are gonna get a little difficult for Harm & Mac moving forward. Reviews please! :)


	4. Ep 3: The Good of the Service

**Warning:** Lengthy Author's Note.

**AN:** Hey everyone. Sorry for being away for so long but many, many things happened over the last month. Some good, some bad, most tediously mundane. Long story short, I had no internet, work was a bitch and my laptop (where I was writing these stories) died.

I still have no real internet, work is done, and the stories I wrote, I didn't lose any of them (thanks to always saving a backup.) Oh, and I bought myself a nice set of headphones. :)

As always, thank you for reading this story and for the reviews, both in the reviews section and via PM. I really appreciate the time you guys take to write to me about my story.

Now let me assure some fans. While it might seem like I'm rehashing the series, I'm really not. For instance Harm & Mac will become a couple that you'll get to see be in a relationship, date, have good dirty adult fun etc. and you can read it all right here... eventually. I promise you that.

Please keep your feedback coming, and I'll keep writing until I come good. :) Thanks.

* * *

**Episode 3:  
**The Good Of The Service

1400 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden looked out over at the sea of JAG attorneys sat around the large conference table. His most senior attorneys - those with the highest ranks and longest tenures sat closest to him.

As O-4s, two JAG attorneys - Lt. Cmdr. Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. and Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie sat together near the middle end of the table, neither too far nor too close to the Admiral who stood at the head of it. They were something of a hotshot duo - some even considered them a match set.

Of course there were rumors swirling around the office about their current romantic status, so much so it almost became a daily game for the office - Harm said this to Mac today, or Mac looked at Harm like this. While it wasn't the most effective use of government time, it also gave an unexpected boost to productivity - no junior officer at JAG had taken a sick day in months whenever those two were around together. None of them wanted to miss an episode of the Harm & Mac show.

After dismissing most of the table, A.J. held Harm and Mac back. He was sending them out to the Caribbean to investigate the ultimate PR nightmare for the Navy - United States Marines stand accused of invading a small Haitian village, killing innocent civilians.

The Marines were purportedly in the midst of rescuing their own men, taken hostage by rebels six days prior, when the shooting began. They too suffered their fair share of casualties, and now everyone was pointing fingers and shifting blame.

"COMCARIB says they issued orders not to invade." A.J. said to Harm and Mac.

"Who was the unit commander?" Mac asked.

"Lieutenant Colonel John Farrow." A.J. answered and Harm noticed Mac's demeanor change.

After receiving their orders, Harm followed Mac into her office, catching her by surprise. "So you wanna tell me about Colonel Farrow?" he asked.

Mac was surprised that he noticed anything, sure that she had kept a tight lid on her feelings, "He was CO of Headquarters and Service Battalion on Okinawa. I was his admin officer. How'd you know?"

"Your mouth does a funny little upturn thing when you're hiding something." Harm explained with a playful smile. "Your old CO's sure have a knack for getting into trouble."

"What do you mean?" Mac asked, her annoyance surfacing, making her tone hard.

"Your CO at Marine Barracks Washington, now your CO at Okinawa..."

Mac saw red. "Colonel Farrow is nothing like Gabriel Sumner! Sumner was a..."

Harm tried to calm her down, "I know Mac, I was there remember?"

"He tried to pin a war crime on my Uncle!" Mac said, referring to the trial of her uncle, Colonel Matthew O'Hara.

"And he paid for it, Mac." Harm reminded her, before changing the subject to something safer. "So, what's Farrow like?"

She was still fuming but she rapidly gained control over her emotions. She answered, "Excellent leader. Honorable man. Overall, an outstanding officer."

Harm sized her up, not completely sure she was on the level. "What else?"

"What 'what else'?" Mac eyed him. The flash of fire in her eyes warned him to watch his step.

"Your mouth is doing that funny thing again." he remarked.

Mac rolled her eyes at him. "Colonel Farrow is the reason I'm a lawyer. The Corps put me through law school based on his recommendation."

Harm wasn't completely sold. He fixed her with a steelier glare, "That's it?" he asked.

Mac tried not to squirm under his cool gray-blue gaze and was proud of herself when she managed to stare him down. "What are you looking for?" she asked, hoping that her mouth wouldn't betray her this time.

Harm shrugged, "Nothing. I just wanna make sure we're entering this enquiry with open minds."

"My mind's open. But if the politicians want a scapegoat, I'll be damned if I'll give them Colonel Farrow." she said as she pushed him out of her office, closing the door behind him.

"Well, so long as you have an open mind." Harm replied to her closed door before walking away.

oxoxoxo

1910 ZULU  
CARIBBEAN COMMAND HEADQUARTERS  
FREETOWN, BAHAMAS

Bahamas was picturesque, beautiful and for Harm brought back a ton of memories. The last time he was here, he was 15, didn't know how to drive and was a virgin.

When he left six weeks later, he was still only fifteen, but he had learned more than just how to drive in that time.

Lilou Corrinne-Ledard was as beautiful as the island she called home, her jet black hair making her bronzed skin and dark chocolate eyes seem considerably lighter by comparison. She was seventeen and gorgeous, and was every teenage boy's dream. And she showed him that the fantasy was no match for reality.

He could still remember the smell of her hair, drenched with sweat and sea water as she brought him to their secret cove, the one where they had discovered each other the first time, and every time since. He remembered how she sighed his name as he drove continuously into her, bringing her to ecstasy as her nails left their marks all over his back, branding him as hers. He remembered how her body felt under his, moving, writhing, wrapped around him, giving him pleasure in every way imaginable.

For three of the six weeks he was here, she taught him everything he needed to know about pleasure. She was willing to teach and he was eager to learn, and even though he'd refined his techniques over the years, the knowledge she imparted to him on those hot summer days were still the ones that served him well now.

She was the first girl he thought he loved, until he learned what love really was with Diane...

Harm shook the thought of _her_ from his mind, returning to the present.

"Enjoying Bahamas, Harm?" Mac asked and Harm looked down quizzically at his partner. That she looked so much like the woman he was trying to not think of right now threw him more than a little, allowing her to continue teasing him, "Your mouth keeps doing that funny upturn thing." she explained.

Her words broke through his confusion and he rewarded her with a grin. It wasn't one of his blinding best, enough sadness seeped through to diminish his usually dazzling flyboy grin. "Guess I'm just glad to be out of D.C." he replied.

"Yeah." Mac responded before taking in the glorious beauty of the island all around them. Beyond the tropical palm trees was an ocean that seemed to melt into the sky. "Just wish it was under better circumstances." she said.

Harm nodded, his face becoming serious once more. "Come on, Mac. I'm sure Colonel Farrow's eager to get this meeting over and done with."

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac were shown in to see Lt. Col. John Farrow by a young Corporal. When they stepped through the door, Farrow looked up.

"Sir, Lieutenant Commander Rabb and..." the Corporal began to announce when Farrow interrupted.

"Mac." he noticed her oak leaves, "Or should I say Major MacKenzie? It's good to see you."

Mac smiled at her old CO, "It's good to see you too, sir."

As if finally noticing him, Farrow turned to Harm, "Commander Rabb."

"Colonel."

Farrow dismissed the Corporal before he ushered the two JAGs to seats in front of his desk. "Sit, please. Mac."

They took their respective seats before Farrow turned to the two of them.

"So how much trouble am I in, Mac?"

"Well, that depends on what you tell us, sir." Mac replied.

"Colonel, we're here to investigate into circumstances surrounding Operation Manta Ray." Harm dove right in.

"Commander, let me make it easy." Farrow looked him in the eye, "I gave the order, I'll take the heat."

"Nobody's faulting anyone, sir." Mac said.

"Well, I doubt they sent two JAG officers 1200 miles to mete out credit." Farrow smiled at Mac.

"By 'take the heat,' are you saying you disobeyed a direct order, sir?" Harm pressed.

Farrow began to answer when Mac jumped in, surprising Harm. "Sir, I'd like to advise you, you don't have to make any statement regarding the suspected offence. Any statement you do make may be used against you in a court-martial."

"I don't think..." Farrow attempted to answer but Mac continued.

"You have the right to counsel, which I strongly advise you to exercise, sir."

oxoxoxo

Harm marched out of the office building following Mac and once they were sufficiently out of earshot, he got ahead of her and blocked her way.

"Well, you shut that down right quick." Harm said, his usual charm and patience noticeably absent from his voice.

Mac looked up at Harm and didn't back down, "You encouraged a suspect to incriminate himself without giving him his Article 31 warnings."

"This is an enquiry. There are no charges pending." Harm retorted.

"Well, there could be based on his admission."

"Hey, Mac, I didn't do anything we haven't done dozens of times before. What is this guy to you, anyway?"

"That is none of your business." Mac said as she pushed past him.

Harm glared at her retreating form a second longer. "You wanna play it that way? Fine." he said, more than a little cheesed off.

Harm couldn't help but feel that this was like their first case all over again. He remembered how she held him at gunpoint out in the Arizona desert, willing to risk her career to protect someone special to her.

Then it had been her uncle. Farrow though was no uncle, and he was no mere former CO despite her words. Harm didn't know what Farrow was to Mac, but he knew one thing.

He couldn't count on her support.

oxoxoxo

After duty hours, Mac returned to Farrow's office alone without Harm. She caught Farrow as he stepped out of his office.

"Walk with me?" he asked, and Mac was only too happy to join him.

"I read about your uncle." Farrow said.

"Yeah." Mac replied sadly.

"Just so you know Sarah, I think he's a hero for what he did."

Mac looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes alive with emotion. "You think so?"

"I know so. Washington's become scared of its own shadow. We've run out of enemies to fight, so we're inventing ones among ourselves." Farrow turned to her. She was even more beautiful now than when she served under him.

"Is that what happened here, John?" Mac asked.

He took a deep breath and looked at his surroundings. The Caribbean posting was picturesque to say the least.

"Do you believe I would disobey an order?" he finally said.

"If it saved lives, yes."

He turned back to Mac. "Would you still defend me if you knew I was guilty?"

Mac sighed. She continued walking with her former CO. "If the rules in the UCMJ were absolute, there would be no need for trials, judges or juries. There would be no need for justice to be dispense, only punishments meted out."

Farrow smiled, "Law school taught you well, Sarah."

Mac glanced at him and gave him a heartfelt smile of her own, "I didn't learn that at law school, John. I learned it from you."

"You know, I've thought of you often." Farrow admitted.

Mac blushed, "And I you."

"I've followed your career with great interest."

"Thanks to you, I have a career."

"Oh, I think you would have managed just fine without me." Farrow said before he stopped once more. Mac looked back at him.

"You have a killer instinct, which I've never really appreciated until now." Farrow said a little coldly. "Admiral's mast for disobeying a superior officer?"

"What?" Mac didn't know what he was talking about.

"You seem surprised." Farrow showed surprise at her reaction.

"I am."

"Why? You made the recommendation." Farrow pressed and Mac realized with horror what had happened. She couldn't believe it. Harm!

oxoxoxo

Mac's fist pounded on the door of Harm's quarters, threatening to wake up the base. Harm pulled open the door with a book in his hand and was surprised to be greeted by the furious Marine.

She jabbed two fingers hard into his chest, backing him into his quarters. "You've pulled some sneaky, deceitful moves on me, but this is too slimy, even for you." she hissed.

"Hey, you wanna power down and tell me what this is about?" Harm asked.

"Reporting to Chegwidden behind my back. Recommending an Admiral's mast. Article 90. Ring a bell?" she didn't back down, forcing Harm backwards.

Harm held his hands up to try and calm her, "Hey, I sent in a report, yeah."

"Behind my back."

Harm stopped dead and stood up to Mac, his own anger kicking in afterburners to catch up to hers. He didn't appreciate her tone nor her attitude. "As primary investigator, that's my prerogative." he said frostily. "But I didn't make a recommendation."

Mac could hear the warning bells going off in her head. She had never heard his voice dip that way before, it cut through her like ice, as if the sun had been taken from her corner of the universe. Her first instinct was to back off. She ignored it.

"Why didn't you discuss it with me first?" she fired back, her rage beginning to tumble out of control.

"Because frankly, I don't believe you're objective."

Mac fought the urge to seriously maim him, "Maybe I'm not. But you could have given me the benefit of the doubt."

"Your judgment's compromised, Mac."

"My judgment?"

"I'm not the one who's taking trips down memory lane instead of concentrating on the case." Harm went for the kill.

Mac's rage erupted like a volcano, "You sanctimonious bastard! It's alright for you to go off the deep end and risk life and limb over some wild goose chase about your father, but you stand there and call my judgment into question?!"

"I don't make my cases personal." Harm turned up the ice in his voice.

"Maybe that's your problem, Harm. Nothing is personal!" she shouted at him and turned to leave.

Harm would have left it at that but noticed the glimpse of tears in her eyes. He reached out and caught her by the arm, pulling her back towards him.

"Mac, wait." Harm said softly, all hint of his chilliness gone.

Mac glared at him, her teary eyes also ablaze with murderous intent, "If you ever touch me again, I'll break your arm in so many places you'll never fly any of your precious planes again."

Harm knew she was serious. He let go of her. Mac snarled at him.

"Stay out of my way Harm. And stay out of my life!"

And she stormed off, slamming his door shut loudly behind her.

Harm's face hardened, "If that's what you want."

Harm tried to return to the thick novel in his hand. Seconds ticked by and his scowl deepened, his anger not subsiding. And seconds later, his control finally snapped. He flung the book hard against the wall.

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac barely spoke to each other after that, and if words were exchanged, they were said curtly. They remained civil, even if it was clear that neither were very civil in their thoughts about one another.

Their cold hostility didn't even thaw when they faced the news that they were prosecuting Colonel Farrow's court-martial, convened when Farrow refused to accept his Admiral's mast. And defending the Colonel was the JAG himself - the Admiral and Harm & Mac's Commanding Officer - A.J. Chegwidden.

As they both stood in his office, Mac and Harm both tried to persuade the Admiral from not taking the case. Both failed, though Harm succeeded in making his relationship with Mac worse.

"Admiral, I'd like to request that the Major be removed from this case because of a personal attachment to the accused." he said once he resigned himself to facing the Admiral in court.

A.J. was surprised - these two have had their initial problems and hick ups, as any new partnership is wont to have, but this was the first time that any of them had expressed enough of a problem with the other to try and get the other kicked off a case. He turned slightly to take in Mac's expression and wasn't surprised to see the murder in her eyes. "Major?" he asked.

Sliding her gaze from Harm back to the Admiral, Mac masked her emotions behind a calm veneer while speaking in her best courtroom voice, "Sir, my personal relationship with Colonel Farrow will not affect the performance of my duties."

A.J. looked back at Harm who hid his emotions behind an unreadable mask. He contemplated playing CO to his two best JAGs, something he would never admit to anyone but they really were, but he also did promise not to act as their CO while he faced them in court.

"Good. See you in court, counsellors." he said, sure that the two grown ups before him in his office would settle the difficulties between them as such.

Besides, with them squabbling, maybe he'd have a shot of winning his case, and saving a man's career.

oxoxoxo

When he left the Admiral's office, Harm was sure he'd get an earful from Mac, and he was glad that he made it all the way back to his office before she confronted him.

"What was that?" she asked about his attempt at kicking her off the case.

"I was trying to get you out of it." he replied with standoffish cool.

His cool only reignited her fury, "By accusing me of bias? Next time, don't help me, okay?" she said as she marched out of his office and into her own, shutting the blinds and blocking out the world.

oxoxoxo

A WEEK LATER  
MAC'S APARTMENT  
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

The case wasn't going well for Harm and only Mac's quick thinking had kept their prosecution alive. Harm had to admit he was off his game, and Mac's continued accusations that he was deliberately tanking it were spiteful and hurtful.

But a small part of him did wonder if it was also true. He'd never doubted himself before in court but now he truly wondered if perhaps he was the one with the bias, he was the one who didn't want to prosecute Farrow, he was the one who should bow out of the case.

He had tried to talk with Mac about it, but she had very clearly shut off all diplomatic ties with him at the moment, leaving him very little choice but to do the last thing he'd ever thought he'd do.

Grovel.

He wouldn't be able to do so at the office, so here he was at Mac's front door, after work, dressed in casual clothes in case she demanded he do some actual groveling. He knocked on her door and hoped she'd open it.

He thanked his stars when he heard her undo her deadbolt and open the door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Mac, we need to talk."

"Don't you mean _you_ need to talk? Because I'm done."

"... I'm sorry." he said sincerely, his eyes betraying just how much he truly was.

"About?" she asked coldly. She was not going to make this easy.

"About everything in this case. I was wrong, Mac. You're not the one with the bias. I am."

Mac looked at him with surprise, "Why are you biased?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly, "I don't know. Maybe I believe Farrow made the right call. At least he tried to save those Marines. He didn't leave them sitting in a dog cage for weeks and months. Or years."

Like my father, went unsaid, but Mac heard it loud and clear anyway.

"That doesn't change the fact that he disobeyed orders, Harm." she said without any real zeal.

"No it doesn't. That may make him a bad grunt, but does it make him a bad officer?" he asked.

Mac couldn't look at him, afraid that her face would betray her thoughts. Afraid that if she looked at him he would see through her and see what she hid from him. Hid from everyone.

All the frustration of the past couple of weeks bubbled to the surface, but she'd be damned if she let him see her cry.

"Damn it Harm. You're really putting me on the spot here." she said. "If I don't put up a good fight, the Admiral's going to think my history with John is the reason why."

Harm heard her - John, not Farrow.

"Mac, I know he's important to you."

She closed her eyes to hold her fragile nerve together, "I don't expect you to understand."

"Try me."

"He saw something special in me at a time when I don't even think I saw a future for myself. He made me feel that I was... I was capable of so much more. He's been the only one other than Uncle Matt who truly believed in me."

"I believe in you."

Mac looked up at him sadly, "Do you? You question my judgment, you leave me out of an investigation, you try to get me kicked off the case."

"It doesn't mean I don't believe in you, Mac. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

But that didn't mean he didn't hurt her anyway. Mac held his gaze, "You've been running this case without me from the get go."

"I knew you were emotionally involved."

"When have emotions ever stopped me from doing my job?"

"Maybe I didn't give you the benefit of the doubt." he said sincerely.

"No, you didn't."

"Well, I know one thing I'd rather have you on my side than opposing me." he said with every bit of his charm, though Mac could also tell that there was a lot of hope on his part that she'd take his compliment.

As much as she could try to stay mad at him, that smile of his wasn't really fair and she felt any resentment she might have borne melt at the sight of his pearly whites.

"Is that an apology?" she asked with a hint of a smile of her own.

Her positive reaction brightened his mood, "Consider it more an acknowledgement."

"Acknowledgement accepted."

oxoxoxo

Harm looked at the Haitian woman on the stand. She was the one whose picture lay plastered across every front page in the Western hemisphere, she who cradled the body of her child as her world burned all around her. She who cried to the heavens for mercy even as she cursed the fates that put her there. She was Antoinette Malidor.

Antoinette stared back at Harm, holding his gaze and returning it with an even more frightening lack of emotion. This setting, this courtroom didn't intimidate her, in fact it did nothing to her. She had faced worse, had seen worse, had suffered worse things than whatever these four walls could ever dream of.

Harm spoke softly, "Mrs. Malidor, I think it's safe to say the entire world grieves with you over your loss. Can you tell us what happened the night your son died?"

"My son didn't die, Lieutenant Commander Rabb." she said, her gaze diamond hard. There were no tears in her eyes, they had long been spent. "My son was killed. Murdered."

"Yes, ma'am."

Antoinette closed her eyes, thinking back to that night she would never forget. Every millisecond played out in slow motion as if the carnage had lasted days and years instead of mere minutes. She remembered everything, every sight, every sound.

"We were sleeping when the shouting started. And the gunfire. Bullets came through the walls. We covered our children with our bodies. For what little good that would do."

Antoinette took a deep breath, it rasped loudly through the microphone, the only sound in the pin drop silence.

"Then my husband shouted, 'Run or we'll all die.' So we ran out the back. Peter..." Antoinette paused and looked at the jury, "That was his name, the boy in my arms who died that night. My son, Peter. He ran out first."

"What happened next?" Harm asked, drawing Antoinette's attention once more. She looked at him, cold lifeless eyes that made his own steely gaze amateurish by comparison.

"A rebel soldier grabbed Peter and held him as a shield. Like a piece of wood."

"And when the soldier dropped Peter?"

"He was dead."

"Mrs. Malidor, do you blame Colonel Farrow for your son's death?"

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden was out of his seat like a shot. "Objection. Mrs. Malidor has no knowledge as to the circumstances surrounding the incident and therefore is not qualified to provide an answer to Colonel Farrow's role in this event."

"Your Honor, Colonel Farrow's decision to send in his men that night resulted in enemy fire being returned. So regardless of whether the bullet came from an American soldier or a rebel..."

"Your Honor, defense is testifying to facts not in evidence." the Admiral growled, "There is no evidence that shows that even if the Marines hadn't entered the village, the rebels wouldn't have opened fire anyway."

The judge motioned the attorneys - the Admiral, Harm, Mac and Lt. Bud Roberts to the bench and glared at all four of them, particularly at A.J. and Harm. "Commander, explain yourself." he asked.

"Your Honor, I intend to establish a causal relationship between Colonel Farrow's action and the death of this woman's son."

"Your Honor, the issue here... the case here is, was Colonel Farrow justified in sending in his men based on the information he had at that time?" A.J. clarified.

"And the fallout from those actions, should Colonel Farrow be the only one allowed to determine what is acceptable and unacceptable? That this witness who was right there, who has a fuller perspective of the events isn't qualified to testify as to the fallout?" Harm argued back.

"Your Honor, this is just the Commander grandstanding." A.J. warned.

"That may be, but he raises a valid point, Admiral. Overruled." the judge sent the attorneys back.

Mac whispered to Harm. "Harm, are you sure?"

For a second, Mac saw doubt flash in Harm's eyes. "Too late to stop now." he said before turning back to Antoinette on the stand.

"Do you blame Colonel Farrow for the death of your son?" Harm repeated the question.

Antoinette turned her gaze at Farrow. "Yes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malidor."

"And I blame you." she turned hateful eyes at Harm. And at the Admiral. "And you." and at the jury. "And you."

"Mrs. Malidor..." Harm tried to calm her down but she was not to be denied.

"I blame all of you because you stand by and do nothing."

"Your Honor." Harm pleaded for help to control his witness.

"She's your witness, you asked the question. Let her speak." A.J. jumped in.

"I agree." the judge ruled, "Go on, Mrs. Malidor."

Antoinette spoke with crystal clear clarity, "The rebel soldiers... they rape, murder, take our children and train them to kill, and you all do nothing! Oh, you're so rich, so kind, you send us food and shovels, and expect us to sing your praises, yet you do nothing to protect us!"

Her poise was beginning to slip, deep seated anger spilling forth as it was finally given room to erupt. "Even when your own people are killed, you do nothing! Finally, finally, this one, this one sends in soldiers to fight... to do something other than watch and and now you want to punish him! What makes you all worthy to judge him when you yourselves are all found wanting? I don't understand your country."

She returned her gaze at Harm. "Do you?" she asked and Harm had no reply.

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac sat next to each other in the otherwise empty waiting room, waiting for the verdict to return. Mac tried not to fidget, impatience starting to get the best of her while Harm sat unmoving.

But he was the one to break the silence. "What do you think?"

"Does it matter what I think?"

"Mac..."

"I guess the question is, do you want to win and serve the letter of the law, or lose and see justice done."

"You already know what I think. What do you want, Mac?"

"I want that little boy not to have died. I want our Marines never having been captured."

"You want Colonel Farrow not to have ordered his men in."

He caught the look of shame on her face and wondered why. "Who is he to you, Mac? Why is he so important?" Harm asked.

"It's a long story."

"I have nothing better to do right now."

She stared at him. "Maybe I don't want to tell it."

"If you ever change your mind..." he began but one look at her told him that she wouldn't. He nodded. "Coffee?" he asked instead as he rose from his chair.

He didn't get a reply as there was a knock on the door and the bailiff stuck his head in. "Verdict's in."

Harm turned back to look at Mac and saw the nervous expression on her face. He gave her his most confident smile, but it was just a facade, and he knew she knew it too.

oxoxoxo

JAG Headquarters was besieged by the usual media suspects - ZNN, CSPAN, war correspondents from every major newspaper in the metropolis as well as several from across the pond. They crowded around John Farrow, still Lieutenant Colonel, still USMC, still active.

"Colonel Farrow, the court-martial found you guilty of all charges yet no punishment was handed out. Your thoughts?" one of the reporters shouted through the barricade of Marine guards keeping them at bay.

Farrow ignored the question, as he did all others while he was ushered into a car to speed him to AFB Andrews and back to his post in the Caribbean.

The only acknowledgment he gave was the handshake he rendered to the Admiral and Lt. j.g. Bud Roberts - his defense team, and a small nod of his head at Mac. It was missed by all except her, and Harm.

As the press turned their attention back to the lawyers of the case, Harm and Mac quickly retreated to the safety of the JAG building. They rode up in the elevator alone.

"Dinner?" he asked, prompting her to look at him.

"Why?"

"A sort of peace offering for everything."

"You think I'm still mad at you?" she asked, a little confused.

"Aren't you?" he glanced at her.

"If I was, would you have risked getting into the elevator alone with me?"

The thought hadn't crossed his mind. "Didn't think you'd try anything in here." he said, a mix between confidence that she wouldn't and worry that she would.

Mac shook her head and stared straight ahead. "What time?"

"Eight?"

"Beltway Burgers?"

He smiled. "Why not?"

That caught her by surprise. "Really?"

"Figured I might as well bribe my way back onto your good side."

"And what makes you think you were on my good side in the first place?" she asked.

"I'm surprised you even had a good side." he remarked jokingly and she smacked his arm playfully.

"Just for that, I'm thinking something more expensive is necessary." she said. "Something Italian and very pricey."

"You're gonna eat me into the poor house, aren't you?" he said.

"I guess we'll just have to see how much my good side is worth to you, Commander." she added as the doors opened and she stepped out, leaving Harm with a megawatt smile on his face and plenty to think about.

* * *

**Next Episode:** Blind Side (3x04)


	5. Ep 4: Blind Side (Part 1)

**Warning: **Another lengthy author's note.

**AN:** Hi everybody, I actually had this episode done a couple of weeks ago, but without internet, haven't had the opportunity to post it until now.

What's happened in that time is: I've decided to stop playing nice with the JAG episodes as they were told. In feedback to me, **achaon** told me that it was pointless to recap the eps as is and that's right - it is pointless. So I'm gonna write the episodes the way I would have tackled them, instead of trying to make sense of the stuff the original JAG writers gave us. So thanks achaon for showing me the light.

See? The power of your feedback ladies & gents.

**Synopsis:** Harm is assigned to investigate his old flight instructor for a crash that resulted in two civilian fatalities. He however finds himself on a collision course with Mac when she is assigned to prosecute.

**p/s:** Things may not match the original TV episodes as I am rewriting the series completely without much reference to the originals. What you'll read is how I might have written these JAG story ideas into an episode.

* * *

**Episode 4:  
**Blind Side (Part 1)

1300 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The grim face of Admiral A.J. Chegwidden said it all - today wasn't going to be a good day. And thirty seconds into the briefing Lt. Cmdr. Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. knew why.

While conducting a routine flight checkup out of Pensacola, Florida, a F-14 Tomcat had reportedly suffered a sudden electrical systems failure and crashed. Unfortunately the crash claimed the lives of a young woman and her five-year old son - Melanie & Joshua Lanier. The pilot Capt. Gary Hockhausen, and his RIO survived.

Harm jolted at mention of the Captain's name. It wasn't missed by the Admiral nor Harm's partner at JAG, Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie.

"Captain Hockhausen, sir?" Harm asked the JAG confirming the older man's suspicions.

"I assume you know him, Commander." A.J. asked and Harm nodded.

"He was my flight instructor coming out of the Academy, sir. He taught me everything I know."

"Including crashing, it seems." Mac said as an aside, earning Harm's glare and her immediate apology. "Sorry, that was uncalled for." she said.

"Yes it was, Major." A.J. fixed her with a stern gaze of his own.

A.J. looked at his two most promising attorneys. He'd heard the scuttlebutt flying about in the bullpen, the two of them have been slinging barbs at each other of late - nothing particularly of a damaging nature, yet it could be construed as mean spirited at times - competitive if you were being kind. A.J. wondered if it was a case of cabin fever - they both worked long hours, often together, and they both seemed to have little to no social life outside of the office.

The toll was especially telling on Mac it seemed as she was more prone to bouts of snippiness towards her partner. In a way, A.J. wondered if he had encouraged it because he found that she was the only one who could bring Harm down a peg or two, and as their CO, he may have unwittingly supported the behavior by allowing it to pass before.

Of course there was the other piece of scuttlebutt going around the office, one which worried him far more. That the two of them were really sleeping together and that their constant sniping was all an act. As much as A.J. wanted to deny the possibility of this rumor being true, he couldn't.

Mac and Harm were attractive, no human being alive could deny that, but A.J. wondered if they were attracted to each other. Well, he knew Harm had to be attracted to Mac in some way, after all she was a virtual lookalike for Harm's dead girlfriend. So the question was whether Mac was attracted to Harm in the least. He decided to keep a closer eye on the situation.

A.J. nodded at Harm, "Commander, continue."

Shaking off Mac's barb, Harm explained, "The Captain is a legend. In fact, half the Naval aviators in the air today probably earned their wings under him."

"What's the official word on the matter, sir?" Mac asked.

"The manufacturer claims there's nothing wrong with the plane or its avionics. They insist it must have been pilot error."

Harm interjected, "There's no way Captain Hockhausen would have crashed if the plane hadn't failed him, sir."

A.J. turned back to him, "I hope you'll keep an objective view, Commander, since you'll be heading down to Florida to investigate."

Harm was surprised, but took it in stride. "Yes sir."

"Unless you want someone else to lead the investigation so you can be available to defend him." A.J. offered.

Now Harm didn't hide his surprise. "Defend, sir?"

"SecNav is thinking of throwing the book at the Captain."

"Isn't it premature to even assume the Captain is at fault here sir?" Harm asked incredulously.

"Have you already made up your mind that he isn't?" Mac said.

"Major, you're skating on some pretty thin ice right now, so I'd exercise some restraint with your next reply. Understood?" A.J. said warningly. She was beginning to get a little too impudent, like the Lt. Cmdr. she sat beside.

Admonished, Mac nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good. Because you'll be leading the prosecution's case." A.J. said.

"Y-Yes sir." Mac answered, her own surprise evident at being assigned the case.

A.J. turned back to Harm. "Commander, do you want someone else to handle the investigation?" he repeated his earlier question.

Harm thought about it, but decided that he had a better shot at proving the Captain's innocence as an investigator than as his attorney. "No sir."

"Then I trust you will allow the evidence to speak for itself and not be interpreted to fit your version of the events?"

"Yes sir." Harm said, receiving his warning loud and clear.

A.J. sighed and looked at them both seriously. "One last thing, we're keeping this quiet at the moment. The civilians killed were a woman and her little boy. If the media catch hold of this, they'll hang Captain Hockhausen from the highest tree, truth be damned."

"And what if the truth doesn't favor the Navy, sir?" Mac pressed.

A.J. contemplated the question. It wasn't impudence, this was Mac's political science major coming into play - would the Navy throw Capt. Hockhausen to the wolves to save themselves, regardless of what really happened?

A.J. had to trust the system, and he hoped that his people did so too. "Then we'll figure that out if that happens. Do your job to the best of your abilities, that's why you're here." he said before dismissing them from his office.

oxoxoxo

2030 ZULU  
PENSACOLA, FLORIDA

Lieutenant Tina Schiparelli fidgeted slightly next to the green jeep she was in charge of as she waited for the JAG lawyers to disembark. The fidgeting was a bad habit, one which neither the Navy nor OCS had broken.

Personally she couldn't wait to meet the Commander and Major from Washington. They were virtual celebrities - both being favorites of the Navy Times, often being featured by the admittedly propaganda-ish publication. She wondered if they were really as cool as they were made to sound. She was hopeful yet also a little skeptical that they were.

In her experience, lawyers were hardly the paragon of cool, her parents proved that - both being very high powered, very high strung, very highly paid attorneys who were also very, very divorced. In a way, dropping out of college and joining the Navy had been her way of pissing off both parents. It had been her bid to hopefully reunite them against a common cause. Unfortunately it hadn't worked.

Fortunately though for Tina, the Navy provided more than enough family to compensate.

She spotted the two JAG lawyers disembark and went over to greet them. As she neared, she found they were even better looking in real life, their pictures in the news articles hardly doing them any justice. She straightened up and greeted both with a salute and a smile.

"Commander Rabb, Major MacKenzie. Welcome to Pensacola, sir, ma'am." she delivered with rapid-fire efficiency as she began leading them to the jeep. "Lieutenant Schiparelli, one C, one P, two L's and a bunch of other letters. I'll be assisting you with anything you need while you're around, sir, ma'am."

Harm and Mac shared an amused look before Mac turned to the girl, "Nice to meet you Lieutenant."

"Like wise, ma'am. First time in Pensacola? I know the Commander here spent a spell here during flight school under Captain Hockhausen. There's a urban legend going round that the Commander once made the Captain go apeshit at him, pardon my French, because he dumped fuel all over the Captain's canopy."

"Permission to power down, Lieutenant." Harm said.

"Yes sir. Sorry, bad habit I know, running off at the mouth, but you know how it is sir. Kinda hard to lose a habit of a lifetime. I guess it's a product of my childhood."

"Let me guess, New York City?" Harm ventured.

"Brooklyn sir, how'd you guess?" she turned to him with a wide smile.

"Oh, a shot in the dark." Harm winked at Mac who rolled her eyes back at him. As if Schiparelli's machine gun speech pattern and accent weren't dead giveaways.

Schiparelli guided them to the jeep and jumped in behind the wheel. She turned to find the Commander climbing into the back as he allowed the Major to ride shotgun. Schiparelli asked, "You sure you'll be okay back there, Commander?"

"I'm good. I've ridden my fair share of..." Harm began, but Schiparelli didn't let him finish as she threw the jeep into gear and stomped on the gas.

The jeep took off like a shot, leaving Harm and Mac to cling tightly to any handhold they could find. Schiparelli was skillful and fast, weaving through heavy traffic with barely a loss of speed. Harm had to admit, if this was a Tomcat, the young woman would have been one hell of a dogfight pilot. As it was, he was pretty sure if the jeep had wings, she would have been able to get it airborne.

"You know, you look like someone famous. Not to say you're not famous sir. After all you're the flying lawyer."

"Flying lawyer?" Mac asked, her amusement overcoming her terror at riding shotgun next to the maniac behind the wheel.

"Oh, that's the name the Navy Times gives the Commander. If you ask me, it's kinda lacking pizzazz. I mean they could have gone with a more creative..."

A car tried to cut off Schiparelli but she wasn't having none of it. She somehow defied physics and curled the jeep around the car, all the while expertly working the horn.

"What were you before you joined the Navy, Lieutenant?" Harm asked in equal parts awe and terror.

"Oh, this and that. Drove a cab for a year between college and enlisting."

"You were an enlist?" Mac looked at the young woman trying to kill them with her driving.

"Yup. Walked right up to a recruiter and gave them my John Hancock. Hoped to see the world, though I've mostly seen only Florida. But you know, at least the weather's nice, except during hurricane season..."

"How were you commissioned?" Harm cut in.

Without missing a beat, Schiparelli slipped into an explanation, "Captain Hockhausen pulled me out of the administration office, recommended me for Officer Candidates School. Said I had 'the mettle to settle', I think that's how he put it. Anyway I help him out when he needs me. Drag him around, run errands for him, stuff like that. Captain's a real standup guy. You alright back there, sir?" she asked switching topics as suddenly as she switched lanes.

Maybe if you slowed down a little..." Harm said but the young Lieutenant pressed on, her mouth rivaling her driving speed as she resumed having enough conversation for all three of them.

"You like Thai food, sir? Me too. Boy, I wish they had a place around here. They chicken-fry everything here, sir, even the salad..."

oxoxoxo

Schiparelli pulled the jeep up to the yellow crime scene tape where an MP stood guard. It took Harm a second to trust that the demon ride up here was finally over and his knees stopped shaking.

He made it over to the MP and showed him his ID, with Mac doing the same.

"JAG." Harm said and that was all the MP needed to let them in.

The MP though stopped Schiparelli, prompting Harm to turn back to the young woman. "Stay here, Lieutenant." he ordered and heard her "Aye aye, sir." in reply.

Harm smirked at Mac as they made their way down the road, "Got a live one there." Harm said.

"Trust the Navy to let just anybody in." Mac replied with a grin, removing any sting from her words.

"Hey, we do have some standards. We're not the Air Force."

Their laughter stopped when they came across the crash site.

"Oh god." Mac exclaimed softly.

There used to be a road here. There used to be a hill too. Now it was a giant brown crater with barely a hint of what lay before. Trees were nothing more than toothpicks now, those having been obliterated by the impact. And those that weren't were burnt to a crisp by jet fuel and fire.

The black slickers of Federal Aviation Authority investigators walked the scene, the bright letters identifying their agency. Harm caught hold of one of the NCIS technicians.

"What's the FAA doing here?"

"They heard about the plane crash, sir."

"And?"

"They didn't know it was one of our birds, sir." the technician said, "But they started suspecting once they saw us here."

"Who's the agent in charge?" Mac asked.

The tech searched the site and pointed out a tall older man. Harm and Mac walked over and introduced themselves to him.

The man wore his years of experience on his face, the deep lines around his eyes etched by years of squinting at clues.

"Agent Rostock." the FAA man said as he shook both their hands, "So it really was one of yours."

"The Navy doesn't really like to advertise our mishaps." Harm explained.

Rostock nodded. "Understandable. Especially Tomcat crashes."

He caught their look of surprise. "The job teaches you to identify planes from the wreckage left behind. And your NCIS boys missed bagging a couple of parts."

"What can you tell us so far?"

Rostock ran a hand through his thick white mane. "Enough to know that whomever brought the plane down is in a heap of trouble."

"Why?"

"Unless the Navy is employing unconventional pilot crews, a woman and a young boy were killed here."

"We don't want the media to know..." Harm began.

"Might not be my choice, Commander." Rostock said as he indicated behind them.

They saw a middle-aged man in shabby clothes rushing down the road towards them.

"He was here when we got in. The husband and father," the FAA man informed them, "Ted Lanier."

"Which one of you bastards is responsible?" Ted Lanier shouted at them, his hateful stare finally fixing on Harm.

"Sir, this is an active investigation..." Harm went to reason with the man but Ted cut him off.

"My wife. My son!"

"And we're trying to find out what happened..."

Ted saw the gold wings on Harm's uniform and snapped. "You bastard! You killed them!" Ted lunged at Harm taking a wild swing that Harm easily sidestepped. The MPs overpowered Ted, but not before Ted hawked and spat on Harm's uniform. Harm stood there in shock as the MPs finally managed to slap cuffs on the distraught man and take him away.

Mac handed her stunned partner a handkerchief to clean up.

"Commander, you might wanna follow them if you wish to press charges." Rostock said.

Harm stared at Ted Lanier being dragged away. "No, he has enough to deal with." Harm said wiping his uniform with Mac's proffered hankie before turning back to the FAA agent. "Walk us through the scene."

Rostock nodded and took them through the crash site.

oxoxoxo

After seeing the crash site, Harm stopped by the local Navy Hospital to see Captain Hockhausen's RIO, Lt. Judd Gerter. Harm was surprised by the condition the man was in - he had on more plaster than most ceilings, with both legs, an arm and his torso in a cast.

Lt. Gerter was roused from a drug-induced sleep by a heavy set nurse. "Ten minutes." the nurse reminded Harm as she left.

Harm introduced himself quickly before getting down to business. "What caused the Captain to lose control of the plane?"

"What did The Hawk say?" Lt. Gerter asked. The Hawk was Hockhausen's callsign.

"I haven't spoken to him yet."

"He knows what happened."

"But I'm not asking him. I'm asking you."

"Can't remember." Judd said stubbornly.

"I spoke to your doctor, Lieutenant." Harm pulled rank, "He says you probably won't fly supersonic again."

Gerter laughed though the pain made him stop soon enough. "That's one hell of an upgrade, sir. Last night he said I might not even ride a bike again."

"Look Lieutenant, there's a whole world out there wanting to pin this solely on the Hawk. That he was careless, that it's pilot error. I just need to know something of anything that happened up there."

Gerter was silent for a second. "What if it was pilot error?"

"Was it?"

"The way I look at it, sir, if the plane was at fault, I'm getting a pretty penny from suing those asses at Grumman. What do I get if the Captain's at fault?"

"I just want the truth, Gerter."

"The truth is sir, the Navy's gonna ditch me as soon as I can get out of this bed. No glorious pension, hell, disability and VA will barely cover the cost of meds I'll be on for the rest of my life. If it came down to it, the Hawk's the only one I'd trust. If he said the plane went down on its own, that's my story too."

Harm hid his scowl. Gerter was covering for Hockhausen. If he had been convinced of the Captain's innocence before, then Gerter had just injected doubt.

He had to get to the bottom of this, one way or another or else the Hawk's days flying Navy were numbered. All he had to do was trust that Hockhausen was innocent by the end of it.

oxoxoxo

2200 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The Secretary of the Navy, Alexander Nelson scowled at Chegwidden, looking like he had spent all morning sucking on lemons. He sat in one of the plush chairs in the Admiral's office.

"What are you doing with the case of the F-14 crash?" he asked.

"I have a team down there investigating it right now, sir." A.J. replied.

"Rabb leading the case?"

"Yes."

"You're not worried his bias will affect his findings?"

"And what bias would that be, sir?" A.J. was being purposely obtuse to the SecNav's insinuation. The SecNav though saw through it easily.

"Don't play dumb with me, A.J. The boy would do anything to save his pilot friends no matter how guilty they are."

"I wasn't aware the Captain was already guilty, sir."

"I don't see any other F-14s falling out of the sky, A.J. If this was a malfunction, wouldn't we have a pattern by now?"

A.J. knew that this was more than just laying blame at the Captain's feet because it was obvious. This was politics. If Grumman, the manufacturer of the F-14, was at fault, that meant that every F-14 in service across the globe would have to be inspected. Grumman might have to pick up the tab for that, but what were the Navy going to fly before the F-14s got the all clear to return to duty?

If it was pilot error, the Navy could fly like situation normal while Grumman saved tens of millions of dollars. If it was anything other than pilot error, the skies above the U.S. naval fleet were suddenly going to be very empty and very vulnerable.

"Sir, I believe that Commander Rabb and Major MacKenzie will bring the right people to justice."

The SecNav nodded. "Until then, have the Major draw up charges against the Captain."

"Sir." A.J. protested, but Nelson was having none of it.

"If the Captain's innocent, then we'll go after someone else. But until we find who is responsible, I need to keep our planes in the air and I can't do that if everyone thinks the plane went down by itself."

"And what if another plane goes down?" A.J. pressed.

"Then we'll know for certain, won't we? Charge the Captain." the SecNav ordered.

oxoxoxo

Mac was impressed with Lt. Schiparelli. Despite her obvious loyalties to Capt. Hockhausen, the young Lieutenant was every bit the professional, providing Mac with as much support as she did Harm. She even managed to get them separate rather well appointed offices, nearby but not within spitting distance of one another.

As it was, the young talkative Lieutenant stood before her, waiting to assist. Mac looked up from the slightly disheveled piles of paper on her desk at the young woman.

"Lieutenant, I'll need access..."

"To the FAA and NCIS agents who are leading the investigation. I've got their numbers right here, ma'am, as well as the employment files should you wish to inquire on their suitability to testify." Schiparelli handed her a folder filled with all the aforementioned info.

Mac took the folder, a little dumbfounded by the woman's efficiency, "... Thank you, Lieutenant."

"You're welcome ma'am. Is there anything else ma'am?"

"If I think of anything..."

"You'll read the Major's mind and get it to her." Harm said as he knocked on Mac's door.

Schiparelli turned to Harm and gave him a wide smile, "I'm sorry sir, but I don't have telepathic powers. If I did, I wouldn't be just a lowly j.g. sir."

"I doubt you'd be just a j.g. for long." Harm responded.

Somehow the girl's smile widened. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your vote of confidence, sir."

Mac glared at the two squids carrying on the conversation in her room but said nothing. As did Harm. As did Schiparelli! For the first time since they met the eager young Lt. there was silence. Mac was surprised. A look at her partner's face revealed that Harm was similarly shocked.

Mac recovered first, "Dismissed, Lieutenant." she said.

"Yes ma'am. Sir." Schiparelli nodded at both before exiting Mac's temporary office.

Once he was sure the Lt. was out of ear shot, Harm smiled at Mac. "Her mouth finally found the off switch?" indicating Schiparelli.

"Stop being mean. She's just... enthusiastic."

"Hah! A little more enthusiasm and she'd be running the entire Navy herself."

"If I remember right, she's not the only Navy officer I know who is sometimes overly enthusiastic."

Harm laughed, "Bud means well." talking about their shared assistant back in Falls Church, Lt. j.g. Bud Roberts.

Mac leaned back in her chair. "I mean you."

"Me?"

"Bud wasn't the one who filled the courtroom ceiling with H&K rounds, Commander." Mac smiled at the memory of the first time they faced each other in court, where she beat him.

Harm wagged a warning finger at her, though his flyboy grin let her know he was also accepting her point. "That wasn't enthusiasm. That was an overly spirited argument."

Mac laughed at the term. "So what can I do you for?"

"I heard you drew up charges against Captain Hockhausen."

"I didn't have a choice, Harm."

"I know. That's why I'm not railing against you the way you did against me the last time."

"The last time?"

"When you accused me of going behind your back to charge Colonel Farrow."

Mac stiffened at mention of her former CO's name.

"You never told me why he's so special to you."

"I believe I explained myself quite well, Commander. He's the reason why I'm a lawyer. Just like how Captain Hockhausen was the reason why you were an aviator, and why you're doing everything you can to prove his innocence now."

"And you believe he isn't?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe, Harm. But I won't go easy on him, if that's what you mean."

Harm nodded in understanding. "You good here?"

Mac noticed his case and cover in hand. "Yeah, where are you going?" she asked.

Harm replied as he walked out the door. "Can't prove a man innocent without talking to him first."

oxoxoxo

The Hockhausen home was modest, though very beautifully decorated. Gary's wife, Gail performed miracles with a sailor's salary, it looked like it could have been a tropical island resort but without kitschiness or cheesiness.

The palm trees overlooking the deck and small swimming pool in the backyard made the home even more incredible.

Harm saw his mentor out on said deck, enjoying a tall cool glass of beer. Harm turned to Gail who had let him in, "Thanks, Gail."

The slender blonde not much older than Harm looked up at him. "You know, losing the plane is eating him up." she said indicating her husband. "Hell, him sitting there is eating him up. That's why he wants a speedy trial. He wants to get back in the air."

Harm gave her a kind smile. "I know. The Captain's not known for sitting still." he said before he approached the older man alone.

Gary didn't even look up from his newspaper crossword as Harm neared. The Captain took a sip of his beer and said over his shoulder. "You know I'd offer you one of these if you weren't in uniform."

"Well, maybe I should visit again when I'm off duty." Harm said as he came to stand before his former mentor. "Sir."

Gary looked up at Harm. "Commander Rabb. So the brass finally tacked on a promotion. You were a j.g. forever."

"Well, I had law school holding me back for a while." Harm said.

"Among other things. I read about your crash."

"Yes sir."

"Read about you saving some old coot out on the Seahawk too. Earned you that medal." Gary said, pointing vaguely at Harm's DFC on his ribbon bar.

"Yes sir."

Gary motioned for the tall JAG attorney to pull up a seat. "So you're a JAG now. Enjoying it?"

"It has it's moments."

"Like now?" Gary asked, his face unreadable.

"Not quite how I pictured me visiting you." Harm admitted ruefully. "But it's good to see you, sir."

"So the Navy's sending you to take me out?" the Captain asked.

"No, I'm just here to investigate the crash."

"You know the JAG sent to prosecute?"

A small smile played on Harm's lips. "We've met. Major MacKenzie's tough, but fair."

"A Major. Figures the jarheads would jump at the chance to put their screws in."

The noise from a battery-operated toy space gun interrupted their exchange. Gary's young son ran up to them, shooting off the toy. Gary scooped up the young tyke.

"Hey there, Trigger. Shepard, say hello to an old friend of daddy's."

"Hi, daddy's old friend." Shepard said, prompting Gary to laugh. With a light smack on the young boy's back, he sent his son away.

"Shepard?" Harm asked.

"After Alan Shepard. Figured I might as well dream of an astronaut in the family." Gary said as he stared at his son running to his mom and going inside.

"Family life agrees with you." Harm said admiring the scene.

The Captain agreed. "Best thing in my life right now. You ever think about settling down?"

"Haven't found the right girl." Harm said.

"Yeah, that's the hard part." Gary said absently as he returned his attention to his drink. "Though sometimes I wonder if having them has made me lose my edge. Made me... slower."

Harm stared at his former mentor. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at Luke Pendry."

Harm stiffened slightly at mention of his old academy buddy, who lost his life the year before testing a new piece of equipment in his Tomcat that caused it to crash.

Gary continued, "Luke was one of the best. Hell, he was probably the best one of you clowns I ever trained."

"You didn't recommend him for TOPGUN though." Harm reminded Gary of the slight resentment Luke felt at being overlooked.

"Truth is, it would have been pointless. Luke was good enough to give his own lectures. The boy was a natural..." Gary looked at Harm, "More so than you."

Harm nodded. He knew he was good, but Luke was something else. Gary went on, "Besides, I could only recommend one pilot and I had a hard enough time deciding between you and Keeter."

Jack Keeter, another one of Harm's academy buddies. He'd forgotten that Gary had trained all of them together, had made them all into NAVY pilots together. "I guess it's a good thing you went with Jack." Harm said neutrally.

"If I went with you, you wouldn't have had that ramp strike."

Harm remembered the timeframe as clearly as if it was yesterday. Sometimes it still haunted him. Jack had gone off to TOPGUN and Harm had been shipped out to the USS Enterprise in his stead. Would things have been different if he had gone to Miramar? Would his night blindness not have surfaced if he had been in California instead of halfway around the world?

Harm couldn't believe that. It was a freak accident, but it would have struck him no matter where he was. "No, but I might have gotten someone else killed instead." Harm admitted.

Gary saw the pain the memory brought up. "You miss it?"

Harm looked at the older man. "Everyday."

"What's it like, not being able to fly as fast as you can whenever you want?"

Harm took a deep breath before replying. "Hard at first. But you adjust, adapt."

"Or die." Gary finished the sentence. "What am I looking at here, Harm? What are my options?"

"Well, it really depends on what forensics turns up..."

"Screw the investigation." Gary said harshly as he trained his steely combat pilot gaze on the JAG attorney. "Give it to me straight, what's gonna help me keep my wings?"

Harm returned the gaze. "At this point? A miracle."

* * *

Continued in **Next Chapter**

**AN:** Feedback would be nice. Nice feedback would be even nicer. :D Truth be told, I'm struggling to write at the moment, due to a combination of lack of time and a lack of ideas. I feel like I'm churning out sub-par writing here, and it's been a bit of a grind. But I hope as soon as I can get settled in my new home, I'll be able to produce better work.

Nevertheless, I would still like to know what you think of the stories. So please review. :) Thanks.


	6. Ep 4: Blind Side (Part 2)

**AN:** Hi guys, thanks for your kind words. As another fanfic writer here has stated, feedback is good for the soul, and my happiness. :)

This is the 2nd part of the episode. I hope you find my retell / complete reimagining of it as much fun as the original JAG episode.

* * *

**Episode 4:  
**Blind Side (Part 2)

0420 ZULU  
HARRIET'S APARTMENT  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Ensign Harriet Sims loved her new job at JAG, that of office administrative assistant, replacing the old assistant, Ensign Nestor. She loved it for many reasons, for one, the proximity to an actual metropolis instead of being based in Norfolk automatically ensured more variety in day off activities, and for two, she was closer to the one person she actually liked spending her days off with.

Such as tonight's date. She turned to the man driving the old VW Beetle.

Bud Roberts was a happy camper, a happy, if nervous and slightly sweaty camper. He had to admit he was lousy at dating. The planning of it he was good at. He was even decent during dinner conversation.

He however had huge problems with the end. How much was too soon too fast? He wished girls came with instruction manuals... or better yet, cheat codes.

He turned to his what he hoped was his girlfriend, "I had a lovely night, Harriet." he said.

"So did I." Harriet sighed, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear while giving him a come hither stare. She hoped Bud found her sexy, because she was hoping to be sexy tonight...

"So, I guess good night?"

That was so not what she planned. Harriet stopped her flirting and stared at Bud.

"Bud, is there something wrong?"

"No, why? Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"It's just, we've been going out for sometime now, and well... we've had quite a few dates." Harriet reminded him.

"Twelve. Wait, does the one when we went to dinner with Commander Rabb count? Because that would mean thirteen..." Bud started to count.

"Bud. We've been together for a while, but you don't... you know..."

"I know?" Bud asked her not quite sure what she meant.

Harriet tried to intimate her message. She motioned with her head at her apartment upstairs. "We're together... but not... together?"

"Oh." Bud didn't get what she was trying to say, before he finally did. "Oh! Er, well Harriet..." he stammered.

Harriet realized belatedly that maybe Bud was perhaps very religious. Perhaps even puritan. "If you're saving yourself for someone special..."

Bud waved his hands and shook his head in negation. "Oh no, no no, I'm not... I've been with a woman before. Lots of them. Plenty of times." Bud boasted.

"I see." Harriet said warily.

"Not that I'm in the habit of sleeping around." Bud was quick to reassure her.

"Just not with me?"

"Yes! I mean no. I want to yes, god yes but..."

"But?"

"I... I don't want to rush you."

"Bud, sex after three dates is a rush. Sex after four months and twelve dates..."

"Thirteen..." Bud corrected her.

"Thirteen dates is making me wonder if I should be calling a nunnery in the morning." Harriet said with a smile, though she was not finding it very funny.

"No, Harriet. I want to, I just... I just..." Bud stuttered.

"Just?"

Bud was nervous, in fact, he was downright terrified. Not of sex, no, he liked sex. But... he'd never actually liked a girl well enough before to actually care about whether she liked it as well. What if he was inept? Or worse, inadequate.

He clutched at straws and said the first thing that he thought of at that moment. Unfortunately he was looking at a safe sex poster in the window of a clinic across the street. "I think we should get tested first."

"What?!" Harriet practically screeched.

"I mean, its been a while for either of us... I think." Bud didn't want to assume.

"You think?!" Harriet went beet red, and it wasn't from embarrassment.

"I'm not saying that you're very active... though if you were I'd understand." Bud said sincerely. That was the final straw.

"Bud Roberts! I've never been so insulted in all my life! I'm sorry if I can't be like your other girlfriends, but I sure as hell am not some hussy that needs to get tested!" Harriet couldn't get out of the VW fast enough.

Bud didn't know what just happened. He called out after her. "Wait, Harriet! I didn't mean..."

She didn't care what he meant as she slammed the car door shut in his face and stormed into her apartment building.

oxoxoxo

THE NEXT DAY  
1400 ZULU  
PENSACOLA, FLORIDA

Mac stared at the initial reports she had gotten from the crash investigators and the interviews with them she had conducted at the crash site. The evidence was stacked heavily against Captain Hockhausen, making him the prime suspect in the case. Actually the Captain was the only viable suspect - none of the dots connected otherwise.

However she couldn't help but feel something was missing. Aside from all the data recovered from the crash site, there was no way to refute Hockhausen's claim that during the flight, the plane 'wigged out' under him and nearly put him and his RIO into the ground.

Mac was now on the phone with Bud, who had come up with the idea of cross checking the black box time data with weather conditions - anything to paint doubt in the Hawk's testimony.

As Bud waited for the data to be faxed to him, he asked Mac. "Ma'am, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Shoot." Mac replied absently, not really paying attention.

"Well, it's Harriet ma'am. She is... well..."

Mac's interest was suddenly sparked. "Well?"

Bud tried to frame it in his mind. "She wants to know why I'm not sleeping with her ma'am." Bud realized he just said that out loud. "Oh god, I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to..."

Mac was glad she hadn't put the phone on speaker. Mac tried to recover from the shock of Bud's confession. It took her a few attempts before speech was even possible.

"I think that's an issue between you and Harriet, Bud."

"I know ma'am. It's just... she's not even speaking to me now."

"Why?"

"I don't know. She got mad after our date last night and then told me she never wanted to see me again."

"What did you do?"

Bud related what he'd done and Mac couldn't fault Harriet. "Oh, Bud."

"What do I do, ma'am?"

"Pray?" Mac said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Seriously though Bud, what were you thinking?"

"Well, ma'am... I guess I got nervous and stuck my foot in my mouth, didn't I? What do I do?"

"You know what, Bud? Sometimes the truth is the only recourse. Tell her the truth."

"Ma'am, she's not gonna believe me."

"What have you got to lose? It's not like she's gonna talk to you any less as it is."

"I guess so, ma'am." Bud said not entirely sure she was right. Maybe he'd ask Commander Rabb - women loved him. His thoughts were interrupted when the fax machine behind him kicked to life. It was the report he'd been waiting on. "Ma'am, I got the fax from weather control."

"Anything I can use, Bud?" Mac asked.

Bud's face lit up as he read the report. "Oh yes, ma'am."

oxoxoxo

"You lied to me." Harm confronted Captain Gary 'The Hawk' Hockhausen, shoving the copy of the fax he'd been given by Mac at him.

Hockhausen was having none of it. "You come into my house and accuse me..."

"Can it, Hawk. You said that the plane suddenly pitched forward as you were climbing up over the ridge. The black box recorded no significant pitch variations."

"Then it must have been a downdraft. I included the possibility in my report."

"Except there was an updraft that day. So you wouldn't have pitched forward unless of course you're leaving out something important."

"Such as?" the Captain eyed his former student.

"Such as you were upside-down."

"Hah!" Gary stared at Harm as if the JAG attorney had lost his mind. "Yeah, you try flipping the 'Cat belly up at 50 feet above the deck. I'm good, but I'm not God."

"Doesn't mean you didn't try it. And it's not impossible."

Hockhausen remembered what Harm was talking about. "High-noon."

"It was the only way to get the last target." Harm said recounting the day that exact feat had been accomplished - the High-noon competition which Harm won.

"You know, you almost lost your wings that day." Gary fired back.

"What?"

"The judges were gonna kick you out of the program. You endangered your bird and your RIO with that maneuver, and damn hell nearly erected a $40 million headstone for your own grave. I had to talk to the judges to save your windswept butt."

Harm hadn't heard this story before.

Gary continued, "Had to talk fast too. But then again, seeing how you wrecked another bird on a simple night landing, maybe I shouldn't have bothered."

Both men glared at each other, before Gary decided to soften his stance, "Look, Harm, that's one of the reasons why I didn't send you to Miramar. TOPGUN would have eaten you alive. You're a little wild in the saddle and Keeter... well, he's textbook perfect. Seriously it's like you two are different people up in the air than on the ground." Gary looked at Harm, "I could use a little outside of the box thinking right here on the ground now."

Harm was still reeling from the shock that his mentor had stepped in so blatantly to save his Navy career. And all the Captain was asking for was the same favor in return. Harm knew he had to be creative now. He just wished that the first creative idea that came to mind wasn't the one most likely to get them both killed.

oxoxoxo

"So this is your idea of helping my defense?" Gary asked as he admired the view.

Two Tomcats were fueled on the tarmac and ready to go, both primed to take on recreating the conditions of the crash. It had taken Harm and the Captain a lot of talking to convince both their COs that this was a good idea. But convince them they did.

"Problem is, you're down one RIO and I'm down another." Harm said as they ran a final check over the planes.

Gary looked up and saw a figure approach from the hangar. "I wouldn't worry too much about me. And I don't think you're out a partner either."

Harm looked behind him and was surprised to see Mac in a flight suit, all ready to go.

"Didn't think you could ditch me, could you, flyboy?" she asked.

"Mac, this is not a joyride."

She hummed her agreement, she knew that. "You're trying to recreate the flight without hopefully recreating the results." she said, before she turned to address Captain Hockhausen. "Captain." she greeted.

Hockhausen nodded at her, "You must be the JAG sent to crucify me."

"Sir, I'm here to prosecute the parties guilty for this crash. Are you admitting culpability?" she asked with a steely voice.

Hockhausen fixed her with a cold gaze, "Does it even matter what I admit to, considering Navy brass have already made up their mind?"

"A woman and her child are dead, Captain. If you aren't guilty of causing that, I would be wasting my time pursuing you. And I don't like wasting my time." she returned fire.

They glared at each other for a second longer before the Captain chuckled. "Harm was right, you are one tough nut to crack. Well, I hope I can do enough to prove my innocence with this fly-by." he said before heading to find himself a RIO.

Mac turned to her JAG partner. "You called me a nut?" she asked.

"A tough nut." Harm replied before pulling her aside. "Mac, are you sure you wanna do this?"

Was she sure, no. But was she going to give up a chance to gain valuable insight as to what happened, hell no. "What's the matter, Rabb? Rusty or scared." she sassed him.

Harm never could back down from a challenge. "Alright, Marine. Don't come running to me if you lose your lunch." he said before helping her strap into the rear cockpit.

"Hey, I'm a tough nut, remember?" she grinned. "Just try not to get me shot in the leg this time, flyboy."

oxoxoxo

The Tomcats blasted through the narrow valley, their engines emitting high pitched screams as they ripped past - the second Tomcat playing follow the leader perfectly. Harm threw the plane into a roll, following Gary Hockhausen's flight path to the tee.

"We're coming up on the ridge where the plane lost it." Harm heard Gary say on the radio.

"Roger that, Hawk." Harm replied before turning his head slightly to talk to Mac behind him.

"Hey Mac, you alright back there?"

"No." Mac replied as her stomach rebelled and her head tried not to explode. "Can't you fly steady?"

Harm chuckled, "This is steady, Mac. I warned you this wasn't a joyride."

"You could have warned me it'd feel like sitting inside a washing machine."

"Only the first few times. You get used to it." Harm called back when his radio crackled to life once more.

"Okay, this is it. The ridge." Gary said as the lead Tomcat peeled away quickly.

Harm saw the broken shaft of a telephone pole just a millisecond before his hand jerked up automatically, making the plane miss it handily. Pure adrenaline filled Harm's veins at the close call.

"Hawk, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"The..." Harm began then realized that Mac was in the backseat, capable of hearing every word. He would discuss this with the Captain back on the ground. In private.

oxoxoxo

The flight had been revelatory in that neither Harm's nor Hockhausen's jets experienced the same phenomenon that afflicted the Hawk's first flight.

Harm had proven that while he was a little rusty, some skills never diminish. He matched Hockhausen easily, maneuver for maneuver, roll for roll.

Mac though checked out sometime during the flight, her stomach lacking the ability to handle Mach speed and high-Gs. Instead of talking with Hockhausen, Harm decided to make sure she got some rest in her room and fluids to combat her G-sickness before he looked over the data he recorded today.

That was the main reason why they had gone up in two planes. Harm's 'Cat had been fitted with a forward mounted camera and had captured the Captain's maneuvers. Harm had the AV guy go over every square inch of tape looking for what could have possibly gone wrong with the plane.

And found nothing.

Frustrated with his lack of progress, Harm leaned back in his chair and looked up into the face of Lt. Schiparelli.

"Lieutenant." he acknowledged her.

"Tired, bored, hungry, frustrated or sleepy, sir?" she asked.

"All of the above?" Harm said with a grin before righting himself. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, sir. Figured you could use a ride in case you wanted a little chow or a little time on the rack. Or if you'd like me to deliver, I'd be happy to, though I don't think I could deliver a bed at this time of night sir, but I could try."

Harm laughed, "You know what? A little chow sounds great. What you got planned?"

"Thought you'd never ask sir." Schiparelli smiled.

oxoxoxo

They found a cool, loud and popular place just off the base, but it was lousy with Navy and Marines, even at this time of night. Most of them were off duty, though there were still plenty of uniforms in sight.

Harm had to admit that the veggie platter was everything Schiparelli promised it would be - chicken-fried and swimming in grease, but Harm was too hungry to complain. He'd worry about the calories and heart attack potential tomorrow.

Sometime during the night, Schiparelli got to playing pool with a couple of guys giving her some grief. Harm stepped in.

"Her and I against you two, if that's all right with you." Harm offered and Schiparelli jumped at the chance.

"Can you play?" she asked.

"I'm alright." Harm replied.

"The question is, do you fly?" one of the guys hustling Schiparelli asked.

Harm took stock of the two men with their jarhead haircuts - Marines. "Sometimes." he replied.

"What's your ride?" the other one spoke now.

"Tomcats." Harm replied with pride, and noticed the sneer on the two men's faces. "Hornet pilots." Harm guessed.

"But of course."

"Well, then we have to play." Harm said.

The Marines whispered to each other before laying out the stakes as Schiparelli racked up. "Not for drinks."

"Money?" Harm asked.

"Your boots." one of the Marines pointed at Harm's shoes.

Schiparelli looked at them incredulously. "What's a jarhead want with Navy boots?"

"In or not?" the Marine asked Harm, ignoring her comment.

"My boots against your pants." Harm added his own stake.

Schiparelli looked at the Navy Commander, "What do you want with his pants?" she asked.

"Add her bra and we've got a deal." the other Hornet pilot said, pointing at her.

"Hey, now." she folded her arms protectively across her chest. "They won't fit you."

Ignoring her, the Marines gave them first "Break."

oxoxoxo

Schiparelli and Harm were in the jeep, laughing as they shared a celebratory stogie. In the back were the pants of two now half naked Marines.

"Think we could have taken their shirts too sir?"

"Nah. Let's leave them with some dignity." he laughed. "And the name's Harm."

"That's an interesting first name sir." she said ignoring the subtle hint to drop the sirs.

"What's your first name by the way?"

"Tina." she replied.

"Pretty name."

"That's nice of you to think so, sir. You have a girlfriend, sir?"

"Getting kinda personal there aren't we, Lieutenant?"

"Well we did just pants a couple of Marines, so I think that gives us a bond, sir."

"I guess it does. No, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment." he smiled sadly and noticed that she was suddenly staring at him in all seriousness. "What? Something wrong?" he asked.

"Nope." she said as she leaned in.

"You sure? Because you're not..." and suddenly he wasn't talking much either as her lips descended on his. Harm was surprised, with it falling somewhere between very and pleasantly.

He knew he should put a stop to it, but for a second he could imagine that she was someone else, anyone else and not feel guilty. He sought to deepen the kiss when he noticed that they had an audience. He pulled back slightly and was stunned when he saw Mac standing next to the jeep. He pulled away quickly.

"Hey, Mac. How are you feeling?" Harm asked shakily.

"Not as good as you, it seems." she said before turning her attention to Schiparelli. "Lieutenant." Mac nodded at the young woman.

"Ma'am, here for a drink?" she asked, unaware of Mac's history with alcohol. Mac shot a glance at Harm.

"No, but I assume you two were?"

"We were here for dinner." Harm explained. "The Lieutenant gave me a ride."

"Apparently." Mac said and the snide barb was not missed by the young woman.

"May I ask you what you mean by that, ma'am?"

"Mac, we played pool tonight. Beat the pants off a couple of Marine airjocks."

Mac didn't move her gaze from the young Lieutenant's, "Is that what you do in your spare time, Schiparelli? Hustle Marines?"

"No, ma'am, I usually prefer a challenge."

Harm saw the flash of fire in Mac's eyes and knew Schiparelli's career in the Navy was in far less danger than her physical health.

He quickly stepped in and walked Mac aside.

"Mac..." he began but she cut him off.

"Glad to see you're working hard on the case, Commander."

"She just kissed me."

"She's either much stronger than she looks or you weren't putting up much of a fight."

"Mac, it was just a kiss." Harm explained, not like he owed her an explanation anyway.

"For now." she said with a voice full of ice. Mac felt like a fool. He obviously had no problem kissing women and here she was mooning over him like some lovestruck teen. It hurt too, knowing that he'd probably choose someone else over her.

"Forget it Harm. What you do in your spare time has nothing to do with me. Besides I was here to discuss a deal."

"A deal?"

"I drop all charges if the Captain retires immediately. He has his twenty, his pension is guaranteed."

Harm frowned, "Mac, you saw it today. The man can still fly."

"I don't care if he invented flying itself, Commander. Take the deal to the Captain."

"He won't take it. And frankly I wouldn't recommend him to take it either."

"Then I guess I'll see him in court."

"Mac." he tried to reason with her but she wasn't having any of it.

oxoxoxo

Harm rubbed his tired eyes as he looked at the video of the Captain's flying he had recorded today once more. Something about it kept bothering him - even though he found nothing, something gnawed at his gut.

More than that, he didn't know what got Mac's goat. Sure, maybe he shouldn't have kissed a junior officer, but Mac acted like he'd committed adultery or something. He knew she could be a rather by-the-book Marine, but she didn't have to act like she never took the uniform off.

"That's the end of the flight, Commander." the AV guy said, breaking up his thoughts and Harm nodded at the man, before something caught his attention. He physically stopped the AV guy's hand from ending playback.

"Hold on. This is the landing right?" Harm asked.

"The landing approach, sir. Why?"

"Let it run." Harm said and they watched the Hawk's landing.

And that's when he noticed it, the Hawk's mistake. He almost screwed up his landing by misjudging his approach. A rookie mistake. Or the mistake of a man whose eyes were beginning to fade.

"What's wrong sir?" the AV tech asked as Harm stared at the screen.

"Everything I thought I knew." Harm said cryptically. And suddenly Mac's deal wasn't so outlandish.

oxoxoxo

Captain Hockhausen glared at Harm angrily. "You're telling me to give up my wings, on what? What you saw in a sketchy video and your judgment?"

"There was a broken telephone pole up on that ridge when we flew it. I almost hit it."

"That speaks more of your lack of skill than mine. I didn't even come close."

"Or maybe you knew it was there and were extra cautious this time."

"Are you accusing me of something?" Hockhausen glared at his former student.

"No." Harm replied, before adding, "Everyone else is though. I just want to make sure that there's nothing more there."

"I didn't hit the pole, I didn't even come close to hitting the pole. The plane just shuddered and went into a spin. Just because the plane cost 40 million dollars doesn't make it infallible."

"You know, there's no shame in giving it up. You could take up a command..."

"Don't sell me the T-shirt, Harm. I'm not a desk jockey, I'm not built that way. Hell, if it was that easy to put down you wouldn't be flying every chance you got."

"There are other ways to fly."

"Not for me. Damn it, you're supposed to be on my side."

"And I'm trying to save everything else in your life. Flying's a part of you, it always will be, but what about Gail? What about Shepard?"

Gary glared at Harm with all the disdain he felt. "I've given the Navy over half my life. I never complained, I never questioned my orders. All I did was get in that plane and teach young punks like you how to do my job one day. Maybe I'm not a combat pilot like your father, but I earned my right to stay in that cockpit just the same. And I'm not about to give it up without a fight. No deal, and you and that Marine colleague of yours can go shove it."

"Gary." Harm hoped the older man would reconsider but there was no negotiation. Gary slammed the door shut in Harm's face.

oxoxoxo

Harm knocked on Mac's office door, prompting her to look up at him. "No deal, Mac." he said sadly.

"Why am I not surprised?" she replied tiredly. "Did you even try?"

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's it sound like, Harm?" she asked snidely as she started packing up for the day. "Every time there's a crash you're adamant that it's not the pilot's fault. It's bad luck, it's mitigating circumstances, the sun got in your damn eyes!"

Harm was surprised by her outburst, "Hey, Mac. What the hell is eating you?"

How could she explain what was eating her? How could she explain that _they_ were a problem. Not them together, but them... the truth was, Mac didn't know, and what she didn't know she couldn't explain. So she explained what she did know.

"A woman and a child are dead, Harm. And from the looks of it, your Captain was responsible."

"You can't prove it. If you could, you wouldn't have offered a deal." he argued back.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy covering his ass instead of finding me answers, I could!"

"What?" Harm was incredulous.

"Forget it." she said with a shake of her head as she tried to move past him. He stood in her way, blocking her.

"What is it, Mac?" he asked more forcefully.

She looked up at him, her expression as hard as his, "I'm interested in finding the right person to punish. I get the feeling you're more interested in making sure it isn't the Captain."

"Are you saying I'm not objective?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Harm."

"If you had a problem with me leading the investigation, you should have voiced your objections back in the Admiral's office."

"Really? So you want me to accuse you of bias in front of our CO?" she eyed him.

"It's far better than the crap you're trying to pull on me now." Harm said, his tone getting increasingly lower, increasingly threatening.

"And what crap am I pulling, Commander? That I want you to investigate to the best of your abilities and not be blinded by some misguided sense of loyalty?"

"You're a fine one to talk." he growled.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Farrow."

"What's he got to do with this?"

"You were pretty convinced he was innocent when we investigated him."

"He didn't kill a young woman and child!"

"No, he only gave the orders."

Her hand moved on its own accord and slapped his face, surprising the both of them. He looked surprised. She looked horrified.

Harm recovered first. "Don't talk to me about mixed loyalties, Mac." he said. "Do your worse in court."

She wasn't sure if he meant his parting words literally, though he probably did. Mac stood rooted to the spot as he walked away.

* * *

Continued in **Next Chapter**

**AN:** Feedback or you'll have to wait a long time for the next chapter. ;)


	7. Ep 4: Blind Side (Part 3)

**AN:** Thank you very much for all the feedback. I hate resorting to blackmail to get it, but honestly you guys are miserly with your reviews. :) Some of you anyway. The rest of you are fantastic.

As always I am writing as fast as I can, but I admit that with each episode being retold so completely, it does take me a while to plot and populate each story and scene. I do hope that it is worth the effort and wait.

This is the final part of the Blind Side episode. So yay!

* * *

**Episode 4:  
**Blind Side (Part 3)

0400 ZULU  
ACES HIGH BAR  
PENSACOLA, FLORIDA

Harm downed a scotch at the bar when Lt. Schiparelli entered. She took the seat next to his. Harm glanced at her.

"Thanks for coming out so late." he said.

"Well, it's not like I haven't had to give up beauty sleep before, sir. I'm sure it won't be the last time." she said jovially, but noticed his dark mood. She quietened, "I'm sorry about the kiss, sir."

That brought Harm's mind back to the present. "Kiss?"

"Earlier? I'm sorry. I crossed the line."

Harm chuckled, his mood lightening for the moment. "You have nothing to be sorry about Lieutenant. It was a nice kiss."

"Thank you, sir. I was worried I was getting out of practice."

"Any more practice and we'd be facing charges." Harm said with a smile and she grinned back. Harm's dark mood soon returned.

"Lieutenant, how well do you know Captain Hockhausen?" he asked.

"We've never kissed, sir..." she began worriedly but Harm waved her off.

"No, I mean day-to-day. Does he use glasses? Or squint when he reads? Or even misreads signs?"

Schiparelli looked at the handsome Lt. Cmdr. strangely. "What are you asking, sir?"

"I'm asking, when was the last time the Captain had an eye examination?"

Schiparelli was no dumb punk. She knew the score, and she knew "I don't have to answer."

"No you don't. But you will if you're asked in court."

She stared at him hard. "What are you trying to do, sir?"

"I'm trying to save the Captain's career."

"Well you have a funny way of doing it, sir, by accusing him of being blind."

"Then give me something to go on, Schiparelli. Something that points that his eyes aren't failing."

She remained tight-lipped, her silence now as telling as any words she could use.

"You can't, can you?"

"Sir, I owe him my career."

"So do I. But there comes a point where gratitude ends and servitude begins. We aren't slaves to him, Tina."

Harm saw a war of emotions fight across her face before her facade finally crumbled and the tears began. She rested her elbows on the bar and held her face in her hands, perhaps in a vain attempt to physically hold back the tears.

"It's not fair, sir. He's given me everything."

"No, he only gave you the opportunity to be everything you are. It's okay to feel loyalty, but do you also have to give up your integrity for him?

"You're not making this easy, sir."

"No, but no one ever said being an officer was easy."

She wiped away her tears before speaking, "I think the Captain cheats on his eye exam." she sniffled. "He's been doing it the last few years."

oxoxoxo

"He told you this?" Mac asked as Lt. Schiparelli testified in open court.

"No. I overheard him on the phone with another senior aviator. They... They trade techniques on how to pass the tests." she said, not daring to stare at Gary Hockhausen who sat behind the defendant's desk.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I just get bits and pieces."

"I see." Mac replied. "And what else did you notice of the Captain's vision?"

Mac was in fine form, she was methodical and efficient, barely giving the Captain's defense attorney a sniff of an objection.

The defense attorney was probably very good but there was a reason why Mac worked in Falls Church and he was still dotting I's and crossing T's in Pensacola. It was like watching Joe Frazier pummel a rookie fighter.

While Ali watched on from the wings. Harm sat in the back row, not really wanting to be anywhere close to the proceedings.

Next up on the stand was a Navy Corpsman, an optometrist who explained how the continued rigors of supersonic speeds and high-G forces affected aviators after a certain age.

"But there are astronauts older than the Captain and they're subjected to far greater G-loads." Mac asked. "Is age the only factor, Doctor?"

"No, there are other determinants. Diet, exercise, genetics. And astronauts aren't expected to dodge terrestrial objects such as trees and hills. Not the way the Captain has to."

"Thank you, doctor. I've no more questions for this witness at this time, your honor." Mac said, allowing the defense have a crack at the expert witness. There wasn't much there for the defense attorney to play with.

"No more questions for this witness, your honor." the defense attorney finally admitted as he sat.

The judge turned to Mac. "Your next witness, Major?"

Mac stood up and turned to spot Harm. This was it. She turned back to the judge and said in a clear voice. "The prosecution calls Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr."

oxoxoxo

Harm stood before the witness chair and took the oath before sitting down.

"Commander Rabb, you were the lead investigator of this case, weren't you?"

"Yes." he answered.

"Explain the methods you used to investigate this case." she asked.

Harm noticed Gary Hockhausen's gaze at him harden with every passing breath. The Captain was trying to intimidate him. Once upon a time it would have worked. Once upon a time.

Harm told the court about his investigation, from talking with Agent Rostock of the FAA, to interviewing Hockhausen's RIO, to the recreated flight.

"Why did you go to such great lengths to investigate this case?" Mac asked.

"The Captain was my former flight instructor."

"Any hard feelings there?"

"No. In fact he's probably the reason why I still have a Navy career."

"So, the flight. What were you hoping to prove?"

"I was trying to prove that the Captain's claim had credence. That the plane might have suffered a sudden dip due to thrust disruption or a downdraft." Harm answered.

Mac submitted the video from the Tomcat's forward mounted camera flown by Harm. The video replayed the final parts of the flight.

"Tell us what we're looking at here, Commander." Mac prompted.

"This was the part where I almost clipped a broken telephone pole at the top of the ridge."

"If it hadn't been broken?"

"I would have clipped it with my engine intake."

"Enough to damage the engine?"

"Yes."

"Enough to bring the plane down?"

"Yes."

"So if the Captain struck the telephone pole..."

The defense attorney jumped in. "Objection your honor. With all due respect to Commander Rabb, he isn't a full time aviator. Frankly he doesn't even have half the flying hours that men ten years his junior have. He's hardly qualified to give expert opinion on hypothetical scenarios."

Mac didn't even flinch. "Commander, what is that tab on your ribbon bar?"

Harm looked down at the tab she was pointing at, "A Distinguished Flying Cross."

"Is it possible to earn one by accident?"

"No."

Mac turned to the judge, "Your honor, the medal proves that the Commander is at least considered an expert aviator by the Navy. I believe the Commander's skills in the cockpit are adequate enough to give such an opinion."

The judge nodded in agreement. "Noted. Objection overruled. Proceed."

Mac rephrased her question to be more aggressive - the defense attorney having opened the door. "Commander, in your expertise as both an aviator and a JAG investigator, what is your conclusion to the facts of this case?"

Harm locked eyes with his old mentor. "It is my personal belief that at the time of the accident, Captain Hockhausen was physically unsuited to be flying Category 1."

"You bastard." Gary hissed loud enough to prompt the judge to call for the defense to control his client.

After order was restored, Mac turned back to Harm. "And legally what does that mean, Commander?"

Harm took a deep breath as his gaze took in the courtroom. Gail was there, Shepard mercifully left with a sitter. Ted Lanier was also there, alone, his wife and son taken from him by the crash. Harm finally turned to Mac.

"It means that the Captain was personally culpable in the accidental deaths of Melanie and Joshua Lanier."

Murmurs filled the courtroom once more. Harm saw the hateful glare in Gary Hockhausen's eyes and Harm couldn't help but feel he had betrayed his mentor. Harm's eyes shied away.

oxoxoxo

Mac and Harm waited in the busy crowd-filled corridor for the jury to return with their verdict. Harm had the same tense look on his face since he testified.

Mac looked to say something when Ted Lanier approached. Harm turned to him with a tired resigned air.

"Commander." Ted greeted him.

"Mister Lanier." Harm greeted back. "What may I do for you?"

It was obvious that Ted Lanier wasn't a man who found apologizing for anything easy. He struggled with the nerve to do so, but he finally managed it. "I'm sorry about... about my behavior..."

Harm nodded. In fact that was all he did. What else could he say that wouldn't shame the man who spat on him? Harm accepted the apology without comment.

Ted left soon after, and soon Harm and Mac were alone once more.

"I'm sorry too." she said.

Harm turned surprised eyes at her. "What for?"

"For slapping you. It was uncalled for."

Harm snorted, less with amusement, more pained. "I'm sure you felt it was justified." he said with a rueful shake of his head.

She felt his bitterness, "Harm..." she tried to soothe their strained relationship but he wasn't in the mood.

"I need some air." he said, walking out to one of the balconies.

oxoxoxo

Harm pushed open the doors to the balcony and found Gail staring at him, the sound of the doors opening having alerted her to his presence.

"Gail." Harm said, before he tried to back away.

"It's okay." she said before turning back to take in the view. There wasn't much of one, this balcony had seen more use as an ashtray than an actual tourist attraction.

Harm nevertheless gave her ample space as he took a deep breath. Guilt gripped his chest tightly and he was hoping to ease it.

"He's going to jail isn't he?" she finally asked.

"I don't know. I don't make that call." Harm replied turning to her, the wind beginning to pick up and whip their hair about.

"So, the pension, the benefits..." she intimated.

"He might lose those." Harm confirmed. "I'm sorry, Gail."

"What am I going to do now? We have nothing." she wailed.

Harm neared her. "I don't know if you noticed, Gail, but you're an excellent interior decorator. I know it's going to be hard, but..." he fished out a card from his wallet and handed it to her. Gail stared at it. Harm explained.

"This is a card to my mother's art gallery. She has clients around the area who could use your skills. I know it might not be what you want, but it's something until you and Shepard can get by some other way."

Gail looked up at him, grief overtaking any other emotion she might be feeling at this moment.

"Do you really think he killed the woman and her son?" she asked almost breathlessly.

It took a second for Harm to compose a reply. With a sigh, he finally did. "I think his stubbornness got them killed."

Gail looked at him a second longer before she nodded and accepted the business card.

oxoxoxo

The verdict when it came was unsurprising.

Harm tried to reach out to his old mentor, but Hockhausen had nothing but contempt left for Harm, his testimony effectively burying the Captain.

For Gary Hockhausen, he had lost more than just his wings. He also lost his commission and his freedom as he was found guilty on all counts, as well as several additional court-martialable offenses.

For Mac, she had added another huge win to her career.

But most importantly, for Ted Lanier, the husband of Melanie and father of Joshua, he had gained closure. Justice had been done.

Harm stared at the sight of Hockhausen as he was led away in handcuffs. He continued glaring straight ahead, the expression on his face revealing his belief that he had done nothing wrong. That he was innocent. That he had just been screwed by the system. The elevator doors closed taking him from view but Harm had caught the final look in the Hawk's eye.

There was no forgiveness for Harm, only anger remained. And for Harm, he had lost yet another tie to his past.

* * *

**Next Episode:** Fighting Chance (original episode)

**AN:** Yeah, this was not how the original JAG episode went, but I hope you guys liked it anyway. I'm actually hoping that you like it better than the original, but that might be asking way too much. Would still like to hear what you thought of it though. :D


	8. Ep 5: Fighting Chance (Part 1)

**AN:** Hey everyone, another episode starts. I'm posting as quickly as possible to reward/punish my fans. :)

I appreciate your honesty and while it does suck that I'm not doing these episodes justice by going off script (so to speak) I'll try my best to not suck so hard next time. :) Hey, that's why I'm writing in the first place - to get better at it.

This is an original episode (replacing 'King of the Fleas' which I didn't enjoy all that much - but that's just me). This is a 'not too serious' episode.

* * *

**Episode 5:  
**Fighting Chance (Part 1)

0400 ZULU  
PIER NINE  
NORFOLK NAVAL BASE, VIRGINIA

It was a cloudless night and the moon was bright in the sky. Its pale sheen lit the dull steel gray decks of the U.S.S. Seahawk, now moored to the dock after a six month deployment out in the South Pacific, criss-crossing the equator more times than the crew cared to keep count.

The moon also revealed a female Naval officer in her summer whites stepping on deck, ready to disembark.

"Enjoy your leave, Lieutenant." the watch captain said to the female officer as they exchanged salutes.

"Will do." the young Lieutenant smiled winningly. "Try not to miss me."

"Try not to pick up any deadbeat boyfriends." the watch captain sassed back.

"No, I'll leave those to you, Toby."

"Catch you when you get back, Skates."

"Aye aye." Elizabeth Hawkes winked at him before she walked down the ramp.

oxoxoxo

"God, baby, you're so sexy."

PFC Will Tanner had his arm wrapped around a very attractive blonde. She would have normally been out of his league, if her love wasn't for sale.

He was drunk, just enough to walk tipsily to the motel room door. Not enough to stop him from relieving four months of sexual frustration with a woman who cost him a week's pay. A woman he hoped to make work for every penny of it.

They opened the door to a darkened room and turned on the light. And stopped. Someone else was here. Two someone elses in fact. Even through his inebriated buzz, PFC Tanner recognized the man kneeling in front of the bed.

"Corporal Quinn, sir!" PFC Tanner said as the man on his knees looked up at him frozen like a deer in headlights. Tanner turned to look at the woman on the bed who Corporal Quinn was kneeling in between the legs of, and recognized her too. She was the wife of their CO.

"Mrs. Murdoch!"

oxoxoxo

1330 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Lt. j.g. Bud Roberts looked like somebody ate his lunch, and then proceeded to kick him in the face, multiple times. The defeated slump of his shoulders almost seemed to mirror the droop of his cheeks and the downturn of his mouth. He was a sad, sad man.

He looked across the bullpen and released another sigh. It didn't go unnoticed. In fact it never went unnoticed because it was so noticeable, much to the dismay of most of the office. There were no prizes guessing the cause of Bud's funk - she was standing right there in the bullpen with them, resplendent in her white Navy uniform - Ensign Harriet Sims, the new JAG office administrative assistant.

Harriet was Harriet, friendly, bubbly, unaffected... except when it came to Bud. Whenever the poor Lt. j.g. came to see her, she was always too busy to be around him. And Bud knew better than to try and pull rank with her, a tiny bit of him still liked breathing.

So all in all, the office was treated to a day full of deep forlorn sighs from one corner and forced bubbly effervescence at the other.

Even the usual source of much joy and speculation in the office had been having troubles of late, enough for dark rumors to surface. The dashing and amazingly handsome Navy Lieutenant Commander and his partner, the devastatingly sexy and attractive Marine Major were fighting again, enough to make their co-workers wonder if they were on the outs. It was enough to depress the entire office.

Lt. Cmdr. Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. and Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie were in her office, and once again were disagreeing. Rather strongly. And rather loudly. Even Bud noticed, shaking him out of his mopey phase.

"They're arguing again?" a male voice behind Bud asked.

"Yes sir. It's been like that for days." Bud responded automatically, before recognizing the voice. He whirled round and tried to stand at attention all at the same time. "Admiral, sir."

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden steadied the young Lt. j.g. "At ease, Lieutenant." he said. A.J. had just entered the office and this was not what he expected to see first thing in the morning. "What are they fighting about now?"

"I don't know, sir." Bud admitted. He was a little preoccupied with a crisis of his own.

A.J. saw that the rest of the bullpen was busy acting like they weren't paying attention to the heated discussion in Mac's office.

"Anyone care to guess what they're fighting about?" A.J. asked the bullpen but everyone gave the same answer. No.

oxoxoxo

"Stop being pigheaded, Mac. He's guilty and you know it."

"Pigheaded? Well it takes one to know one, doesn't it Commander?"

"Are you resorting to name calling? What are you, five?"

"I'm not the one resorting to childish behavior, Harm. Just because you bat your lashes a few times and get the female members of the jury to hang on your every word you believe you have this case sewn up? I don't think so."

"I do not bat my lashes. And Mac, the evidence..."

"Is circumstantial at best. My client may be naive, but he's not guilty."

"He gave his CO's wife oral sex!"

"It was dark, it could have been anyone!"

There was a loud knock at her door, prompting both of them to turn to the door simultaneously and bellow loudly, "What?!"

The Admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer 2nd Class Jason Tiner stared at the both of them, feeling very much like the shot messenger. "The A-Admiral wants to s-see you, sir, ma'am."

Harm and Mac glared at each other, as if to say 'this is your fault.'

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac stood at attention before their CO who was trying his best not to have an aneurism. He massaged his temple slowly, hoping the Advil he had moments earlier would kick in soon.

"Either one of you want to enlighten me about the unprofessional display in the Major's office?"

Harm chanced a glance at Mac before explaining. "Sir, the Major and I were working out a settlement to one of our cases."

"Seemed more like you two were arguing more than working." He turned to Mac to get her version of the events, "Major?"

"The Commander and I had a few disagreements to work through."

"Really? Shouting at each other for five minutes straight seems more than just a few disagreements." he eyed both of them. "Commander do you wish to share with us why an Annapolis graduate like you found it necessary to use volume to make your case?"

Harm blanched. He felt like a midshipman again, being dressed down by his CO. "No excuse sir." he replied stoically.

"Right, I didn't think so. So may I remind you that as long as you wear that uniform and wish to continue doing so, you behave with the decorum befitting our country's Naval forces, do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

Harm spun on his heel and marched out. Mac stiffened when she realized that the Admiral had her in his sights now. She stood a little straighter.

A.J. knew that a dressing down was unnecessary here. Instead he changed tack.

"Major, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Y-Yes, sir." she replied, more than a little thrown by this unexpected approach.

"Are you happy at JAG?"

"Sir?" Mac's eyes bulged at his question. Was he working up to an excuse to transfer her?

"It's a legitimate question, Major. Are you happy here?"

"Yes sir. Of course I am."

"So your problem is entirely with Commander Rabb?"

"Sir?"

"I'm not blind, Major... well, I'm not deaf. There's an awful lot of acrimony flying around the office."

"What acrimony, sir?" Mac asked warily.

"Well, your bouts of sarcasm and shortness with the Commander for one. Is there a reason why perhaps it's warranted?"

"Reason sir?"

"Has the Commander done anything to earn your displeasure?"

"Displeasure sir?"

"Good God Major, stop answering with questions and out with it. What's going on with you and the Commander?"

"There's nothing going on, sir."

"Then why are you acting like there is?"

"Sir?" she stared at him with wide doe-like eyes.

"Look, I realize that the both of you have gotten close." he noticed how her eyebrows shot to her hairline, "Don't look so surprised, Major. The badge on my chest does say Navy SEAL. I just want to know if maybe some time apart is necessary."

"Are you transferring me, sir?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady even though her insides had turned to jello.

"Good God, no. I'm just saying less cases involving the both of you. Perhaps some time in the administrative side of things may smooth things over."

"With all due respect sir, the Commander would be an administrative nightmare." Mac said, hoping that the hint of levity in her voice would let her CO know it wasn't a barb - more an observation.

"I agree, Major, that's why I'm asking you."

"Sir?" she exclaimed. This was not going the way she expected it to. Being removed from cases and shunted off into administration was effectively a demotion in her eyes.

"Before you jump to any conclusions, Major, know that I believe some time learning how JAG works behind the scenes might be beneficial to your career."

"How sir?" she asked, because she couldn't see how it was going to help her in any way.

"It'll help a lot when you get your own command one day."

"Sir, I'm years from even getting to that stage."

"And you're planning on giving up being a Marine sometime soon?" he asked, curious.

"No sir, but I don't think removing me from cases is going to help my career in the time being."

The Admiral hemmed and hawed as he considered her answer. "Well, considering I am effectively the CO of every military lawyer in the land, do you believe I will value you less if I didn't see you in court every week?"

"No sir..."

"And you think that me moving you to administration is a punishment of some sort?"

"The thought did occur to me sir, yes."

"Major, I don't know if you've noticed but JAG is a mess. We're drowning in a sea of paperwork out there. Find a way to streamline it. The sooner you can sort it out, the sooner we'll get you back in the courtroom."

"Yes sir." she answered, recognizing an order when she heard one. "What about my current cases, sir?"

"Do you think you can manage one more day of not shouting at Commander Rabb?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, then give him all your unopened cases, and try to save your arguing for court."

"Sir, yes sir." she said as she prepared to leave.

"And Major, one more thing. May I suggest taking some of the admin assistants for a night out? There's been a lot of tension in the bullpen of late. Particularly between Ensign Sims and Lieutenant Roberts."

"Bud and Harriet?" Mac asked.

"Any clue as to why?" he asked.

Mac would rather not say. "Not the faintest sir." which was an outright lie.

A.J. would bet his bottom dollar she knew why but respected her enough not to order her to tell him. It was not his place to get involved in the personal lives of his staff anyway.

"Well, don't let me delay you further, Major." A.J. said, effectively dismissing her.

"Yes sir." she replied and marched out the door.

When she exited, she was surprised to find Harm hanging about outside the Admiral's office.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked with concern.

"Depends on your definition of okay." she replied. "I've been shunted off to admin." she said as he fell into step beside her on the way back to their offices.

"What? Why?"

"Admiral's privilege? Who knows, but you've inherited my caseload."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"The Admiral wants me to take some of the admin assistants out."

"You mean like kill them?"

She glared at him as if he'd grown another head, "No, like a night out, geez! Seems there's been a lot of tension in the bullpen lately."

"Yeah, and a lot of it is centered around those two." Harm indicated with his head at Harriet who was giving a very cold shoulder to Bud.

Mac rubbed her head, seemingly catching the Admiral's headache. Harm turned back to her. "You need any help?"

"Yeah. What are you doing tonight?" Mac asked.

"Nothing yet. Why?"

"I was thinking maybe we could each take Bud and Harriet and see if we can get them talking to one another again."

Harm looked at the two in question. "Good idea. So where am I taking Harriet?" he asked, drawing another one of Mac's unamused glares. His flyboy grin though let her know he wasn't being serious.

"Kidding, Marine."

"Well, I wouldn't know, Commander. You do have a habit of kissing junior officers." she said pointedly, recalling one of their previous investigations.

"In my defense, she kissed me." he said, referring to Lt. Schiparelli.

"Takes two to tango, Harm. Try not to get Bud too drunk." she said as she walked away.

oxoxoxo

0130 ZULU  
MCMURPHY'S TAVERN

Harm and Bud had a table near the corner of the bar. Both men were in civilian attire, Harm hoped that perhaps being out of uniform would put Bud more at ease. No such luck as the junior officer was unable to stop 'sir-ing' him at every turn.

Nevertheless, Harm offered to pay for drinks as he ordered himself a beer. Bud stared at the biggest, most colorful cocktail on the menu.

"I've always wanted to try that, sir, but you know, never dared."

"Hey, fate favors the bold, Bud. Go for it." Harm encouraged the man to try it and Bud ordered it.

When it arrived, Harm was surprised by how floral it looked - swirling pinks and purples with flowers of matching colors sitting on top. Bud attacked the drink with gusto, sipping eagerly with the accompanying straw.

Bud was halfway through his second drink when he became unwound enough to start talking. Unfortunately, he also became unwound enough to start swaying in his seat. Bud took another sip and Harm cautioned him.

"Hey, slow down there, Bud."

"No, I'm okay sir. There's hardly any alcohol in these." Bud said with a smile and a gentle tipsy sway.

Harm took a quick sniff of the drink and backed away quickly. Hardly any alcohol his eye, it was positively flammable.

"Sir, you're good with the ladies right?" Bud asked.

"I'm no better than average, Bud." Harm replied.

"Please sir, you don't have to lie to me. I see how all the women at JAG look at you. You could have anyone of them. Including Harriet."

Harm chuckled, "Harriet's not interested in me, Bud."

Bud looked at him pained, "How can she not be? You know how to... how to treat her right."

"Treat her right?"

"You don't get nervous in bed. You'd make her happy. I bet she's good in bed too."

Harm started to color. Here he was having a sex talk with a junior officer about another junior officer in the middle of his neighborhood bar.

"Is that why you and Harriet are so tense?" Harm asked.

"She wants me to... you know, but what if I'm no good, sir? I mean what if I'm really, really bad. Like terrible?"

Harm didn't really know how to answer that. "Well, how's it different from any other girl you've been with, Bud?"

"It just is, sir. I really, really like her."

Harm could see how head over heels the younger man was, and he couldn't help but want to help him win the girl. "Then tell her how you feel, Bud. Tell her how much you want to um... be good for her."

"But sir, she's not even talking to me."

"Is she worth the trouble?"

"Of course she is."

"Then what have you got to lose? Go after her."

"How would you do Harriet, sir?"

Harm almost spewed his beer right across the table as he went crimson straight to his ears. "What?" he choked, flustered by Bud's question.

"How would you treat her, sir? I mean, as a girl... girlfriend."

"Look Bud..." Harm began to protest but was cut off by the increasingly inebriated Lieutenant.

"I bet you've had plenty of women. Me, I've had... had..." Bud counted out two fingers, poorly, before resuming, "Well, you've had more than me. A port in every girl."

Harm looked positively embarrassed, "Bud, I don't have a girl in every port."

Bud snapped up straight as if he just remembered something important. "Oh that's right. You had Lieutenant Schonke."

That name caught Harm out. He stared at Bud.

"She looks like the Major doesn't she? Or the Major looks like her. Do you notice it, sir? How alike they look?" Bud rambled on.

Harm didn't respond but his darkening expression betrayed him. Yes he did notice. Not everyday, but often enough now and then. Like now.

Bud put a limp finger to his lips, "Oh, I'm not... supposed to say it, right? I'm sorry sir. Shhh..." Bud said, shushing himself.

Harm plastered on a brave smile, "It's okay, Bud." he said.

Bud suddenly stood up and declared, "I want to sing."

"Bud?" Harm asked worriedly.

"Sing with me, sir." Bud invited as he searched for a karaoke machine.

Harm looked around. This was not a karaoke bar, there was only the jukebox in the corner. Bud stumbled to it and Harm quickly followed before the young man got himself into any trouble.

"D... do you have any Tom Jones?" Bud asked the machine.

"Come on, Lieutenant. Time to call it a night." Harm said as he helped Bud from the tavern.

oxoxoxo

Across town, Mac and several of the women from the office had organized a JAG girls night out. Actually Mac had asked Harriet and Harriet had taken care of the rest and suddenly instead of just the two of them, Mac had Harriet and three other female junior officers to contend with.

They were bright, cheerful and way too loud for Mac's liking. But it was good to see them have fun and open up around her.

Possibly because Mac wasn't drinking, none of the girls ordered anything remotely alcoholic - mocktails all around.

As the subject got around to men, Mac broached the subject of Bud.

"You know, Bud means well, Harriet."

The cute blonde stared back sadly, "I'm sorry ma'am, but I sometimes don't even think he knows what he means. Why are guys such clueless jerks?" she complained.

The other girls concurred noisily and Mac couldn't exactly disagree.

"What about you ma'am? Anybody special in your life?" one of the Ensigns - Jenny, a cute redhead with freckles asked.

Mac turned to see four very eager faces stare back. "Please, who has the time? I don't think I even remember what my apartment looks like anymore." Mac joked.

The girls laughed, before Jenny went on, "Well, ma'am you do spend an awful lot of time with Commander Rabb."

Mac sputtered, "Harm?"

Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the girls swarmed. A junior enlist - Kirstie jumped in. "You don't have to be shy about it, ma'am. I'm sure there's not a woman alive who wouldn't want to spend time with the Commander."

"Harm?" Mac uttered again, her brain still trying to wrap her head around his sudden introduction as a topic.

"You know I heard he had a fiancee once." Lacey, a petite Asian Ensign finally spoke up.

That piqued Harriet's curiosity, "Fiancee? But the Commander's not engaged... is he?"

"Not that we know. Though I've never seen him with a woman, the Major excepted of course." Kirstie nodded in Mac's direction.

"Has he mentioned a fiancee, ma'am?" Harriet asked.

Suddenly back in the spotlight, Mac quickly denied any knowledge, "No, I don't know anything about Harm's love life." Mac admitted.

But she was curious as to the mystery girl who claimed Harm's heart. He didn't act like he had a fiancee though, not with the shameless way he flirted with every girl he saw... well, except her.

"Maybe it didn't work out 'cause the Commander doesn't mention her at all." Jenny surmised.

"I wish we had somebody who knew the Commander from way back when." Kirstie lamented.

"You mean like one of his former partners?"

"Or Lieutenant Roberts. Oops." Kirstie remembered not to mention Harriet's current persona non grata too late.

Harriet though shrugged it off. "Bud wouldn't betray the Commander's confidence."

"Not to us, he won't, but..." Jenny intimated.

"But?" Harriet noticed the knowing looks from the others and caught on quick. "Oh no, I'm not doing it."

"Aren't you curious, ma'am?" Kirstie asked Mac, but before she could answer...

"Sarah?"

Mac turned around at the sudden mention of her name and saw a man in an expensive suit and well manicured hands smile back. In fact his smile widened when he saw her.

"Sarah MacKenzie." he said happily, obviously recognizing her though for the life of her she couldn't quite place him. He recognized the source of her awkwardness and reintroduced himself, "Dalton Lowne. We met..."

Mac remembered him now. "Dalton Lowne." She met him at Fort Leavenworth when she visited her uncle a couple of months back.

"I'm not interrupting something, am I?" Dalton said, taking in the sight of the four other women with Mac. All were pretty in their own way but none were as stunning as she was.

Mac introduced him to the others and he was surprised to learn they were from JAG. He turned to Mac.

"JAG? You're a military lawyer?" he asked.

"Major Sarah MacKenzie. USMC." she smiled.

He smiled back, "And I'm just plain old Dalton Lowne, of Lowell, Hanson and Lowne."

Something clicked in Mac's head. "Lowell, Hanson and..."

"Lowne. That would be me." Dalton's smile widened as he saw recognition dawn on Mac's face.

"As in arguing before the Supreme Court Lowell, Hanson and Lowne?" Mac asked, a little thunderstruck.

"One and the same." Dalton gave her a cocky grin.

"Mister Lowne, it's an honor to meet you." Mac said.

"Call me Dalton. Have you ladies had dinner? Perhaps you'd like to join us. I'm sure Janet wouldn't mind."

Mac saw the table being held for Dalton and his various guests including 'Janet' - as in Janet Reno.

"That's... that's..." Mac stammered.

"Why don't you say hi?" Dalton invited.

Mac turned to Harriet and the others. They had no interest in making this more formal than a girls night out and quickly motioned for Mac to go ahead. "It's okay, ma'am, we can take care of ourselves. Have fun." Harriet said with a subtle push in Dalton's direction.

As Dalton walked Mac towards his table, he whispered to her. "Do you believe in kismet, Sarah?"

Mac glanced at him and caught his satisfied grin, "Let's call it coincidence."

"A happy coincidence?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see." she said with a smile before being introduced to Dalton's guests.

"Janet, please meet a dear friend of mine, Major Sarah MacKenzie of JAG."

"It's an honor, Miss Reno." Mac replied as she shook the hand of the first woman ever appointed as U.S. Attorney General.

"Likewise, Major." Janet replied.

oxoxoxo

Harm climbed up the stairs to his apartment, bone weary. Bud had been a handful until he passed out somewhere around the time where Harm had to carry him up three flights of stairs to his apartment.

As it was, his knee - the one where he ran into a car shoving Mac out of the way - was beginning to act up a bit. Not enough to make him limp, but enough to let him know that with his carrier qualifications coming up, he'd better take it a little easier.

Harm made it to his door and checked his mail. And was surprised to find a plain white note among his bills. He opened up the note and read.

Get better locks. - CW

Harm tensed. He quickly unlocked the door to his apartment and expected the worst. He needn't have worried, the place was just as he left it. Harm quickly locked up before double checking his apartment. He found nothing was touched, nothing was out of place, no bugs installed. Nothing out of the ordinary except for the single folder on his kitchen counter.

Harm opened it and found the photo of a very familiar face stare back - the man he knew as Detective Mark Falcon of Alameda was in reality, Major Vitaly Sokol of the FSB.

* * *

Continued in **Next Chapter**

**AN:** I promised I was going to write shorter episodes, but it's not happening. Maybe I should write less original episodes. I don't know, you tell me. Feedback if you want to keep me writing. :)


	9. Ep 5: Fighting Chance (Part 2)

**AN:** It takes me roughly 5-6 days to write an episode, so yes, one episode a week is the best I can manage. Maybe two at most. Sigh. I don't wanna take 10 years to write all 10 seasons and neither do I want to fast forward through the series.

I know there's an insane wait going on to find out when I'll get Harm & Mac together. Though that's a huge part of the appeal of JAG, I am taking this opportunity to write JAG the way I might have written it if it was mine to write. Like I said, it's probably the craziest thing I've ever attempted with words. I can only hope that when I get to the end, I would have written this series to the best of my abilities.

Anyway, enough with my bellyaching, on with part 2 of this episode.

* * *

**Episode 5:  
**Fighting Chance (Part 2)

1405 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Everyone got out of the way of the young delivery boy as he made his way across the JAG bullpen, drawing a very interested audience in the process. The delivery boy almost made it to his destination when he was stopped by Harriet.

"Delivery, ma'am." the boy explained to the Ensign who did her best impersonation of Cerberus at the gates of hell.

"And who is it for?" she asked.

oxoxoxo

The knock on her door made Mac look up from the piles of administrative paperwork.

"Harriet?" Mac asked as the Ensign ushered in a young boy with the biggest bouquet of flowers possibly on planet Earth.

"Special delivery, ma'am." Harriet said before handing the card that came with the flowers to the Major. Mac frowned as she pulled out the note and found a single word written on it.

Kismet.

Mac blushed and she couldn't contain the wide smile that crept across her face.

"You must have made a heck of an impression of Mister Lowne, ma'am." Harriet said noticing the Major's reaction.

Mac noticed Harriet's dreamy-eyed stare admiring the flowers, "I think he's crazy." Mac said, knowing that the flowers probably cost more than the furniture in the room.

"Well, ma'am, I wish someone was that crazy for me." Harriet replied with a sad smile and Mac felt bad.

"Harriet, Bud's a nice guy..." Mac tried again to patch them up.

"I know ma'am. But a girl can dream can't she that he'd stop being nice and be more confident. Without being a jerk."

"I don't think there are many men like that out there, Harriet." Mac smiled ruefully.

"Whoa, opening up a flower shop or are condolences necessary, Mac?" Harm said as he walked in to her office and found himself confronted by the sight of too many flowers.

Mac glared at her partner. "Very funny. You should go on the road with that act."

Harm looked at Harriet and she filled in the blanks. "It's a thank you bouquet from the Major's date last night."

"Must have been one hell of a date." Harm stared at Mac wide-eyed.

"It wasn't a date. It was dinner. I didn't ask for this."

"Well, Mac, most men consider buying a woman dinner a date." Harm revealed a glimpse into the male psyche - wisdom by Rabb.

"Hmm, some men don't even go that far." Mac said with a roll of her eyes as she packed her case for court. "What do you need, Harm, or are you attracted to pollen?"

"I need to talk." Harm said.

"If it's about Corporal Quinn, I'm not listening." she said as she walked past him out into the bullpen.

"It's not about the case, Mac." he said quietly as he walked with her towards the elevators.

"Then?" Mac asked as they got into the packed elevator. Harm didn't feel like divulging the contents of Sokol's file to her here, where there were far too many ears.

"I'll tell you later?"

Mac shook her head at him - unbelievable and just so like him. He'd plead for her attention and then string her along. "Before or after I kick your six in court, Commander?"

He honestly missed this, their banter. Things had been tense between them, tense ever since he got back from Europe. Ever since he discovered his father had been a POW in Siberia all these years, and not Laos or North Vietnam like he always believed.

"Oh, you keep dreaming, Major." Harm said with his cocky flyboy grin as the elevator doors closed.

oxoxoxo

A Marine Corporal sat next to Mac behind the defendant's desk. He was good looking - traditional chiseled jaw, strong masculine features, his close cropped blonde hair making it seem darker than it was, which made his keen ice blue eyes look even lighter than they were.

This was Corporal Quinn who stood accused of giving his CO's wife oral pleasure.

Overseeing the proceedings was Lt. Colonel Michaela Vaughn, who might not be long in years but had seen everything in court. Or so she thought. She had to admit this case was fascinating in its scandalous nature, and knew the jurors were similarly hooked.

Harm who represented the plaintiff was questioning Corporal Quinn's girlfriend. The dirty blonde was attractive in her own right, with all the right assets to be an exotic dancer, and may have been one in a past life though she was appropriately dressed now. Crucially though, she looked nothing like Mrs. Murdoch - the woman Corporal Quinn had relations with.

That wasn't to say that Mrs. Murdoch wasn't attractive herself. Far from it, especially considering she was also young, 26-year old Mrs. Murdoch.

"How long have you been in a relationship with Corporal Quinn, Miss Faraday?" Harm asked Quinn's girlfriend Cassie Faraday on the stand.

"About two years."

"And you've been sexually involved with one another for just as long?"

"Longer."

Harm quirked an eyebrow. "Longer?"

"Quinny... I mean Corporal Quinn and I... well, we had an arrangement."

"An arrangement?"

"Not for money or anything. Just he'd give me a call when he was in town and I'd do the same when I got lonely."

"So sometime during this... arrangement, the both of you became exclusive?"

"About a year ago."

"Why?"

"Well a girl doesn't stay young forever, Mr. Rabb..." Cassie said with a sigh and a smile. If Harm didn't know better he could swear she was making eyes at him.

"So you asked him to be exclusive?" Harm asked.

"Objection your honor, what's this testimony supposed to reveal?" Mac spoke up.

"If I may have some leeway, your honor." Harm quickly pleaded.

"Try to get on with it, Commander." Colonel Vaughn said before allowing him to proceed.

Harm turned back to Cassie, "Miss Faraday... Cassie, you asked him to be exclusive. How did he take it?"

"Well, he told me we already were."

"And you believed him?"

"Objection your honor. Counsel is implying that my client wasn't faithful." Mac said exasperatedly.

"Well if he was, we wouldn't be here would we, Major?" Harm glared at her, annoyed with her constant objections.

"How Corporal Quinn is as a boyfriend is not the question here." she glared at him.

"No, the real question is how in the world could Corporal Quinn confuse Mrs. Murdoch with Miss Faraday." he fired back.

"It was dark."

"Trust me, Major, a man knows if he's giving oral sex to someone other than his girlfriend."

"And you would know because you've personally conducted a study?"

The sharp rap of the judge's gavel drew their attention. Judge Vaughn was not happy. She pointed at the both of them, "You two, my chambers. Now."

oxoxoxo

Lt. Col. Michaela Vaughn looked at the two attractive attorneys before her, her mind already wondering if there was some history at play here that she was unaware of.

She pointed between them, "What the hell is going on here?"

Harm and Mac shared a look before returning their eyes front and center, neither sure what the judge meant.

The judge went on, "I commend both of you for your passion in arguing this case, but considering the sexual nature involved, perhaps it would be less distracting if you both argued just the facts instead of making this personal."

"That wasn't personal, your honor." Harm responded.

"Could've fooled me, Commander. How 'bout you, Major?" Michaela turned to the attractive Marine.

"It wasn't personal, but the Commander's arguments are unprofessional, your honor." she replied, drawing Harm's ire.

"Unprofessional? What did I do?" he asked.

She confronted him, "You were stating opinions as fact..."

"I was leading up to a point..."

"Oh, you were leading all right..."

Michaela raised her voice, "Enough! Is this something I should talk to your CO about?"

They chimed simultaneously. "No, ma'am."

Michaela shook her head. Maybe it was her imagination but she could swear that these two were... well, it's not like she hadn't had experience in that department herself and she knew that office romances rarely worked out. But still she remembered just how intense it could get and these two were skating on the very edge.

"I'm gonna call an end to today and resume first thing tomorrow morning. Settle whatever it is between you two before 8 A.M, because if you disrupt my courtroom like how you did today, I'll charge both of you with contempt."

That seemed to shake both of them a little. Michaela pressed her advantage, "Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." they chimed again.

As they left, Michaela wondered if she should have ordered them to a hotel room to work out whatever tension there was between them instead. Then she remembered the disaster it was when she was a JAG herself. No, office relationships don't work.

oxoxoxo

Bud held his aching head trying his best not to have a hangover. He had no idea what he drank last night, but it felt like pink and purple elephants had stomped all over his skull.

"Rough night there, Lieutenant?" a female voice asked, rousing Bud. Bud looked up and saw a fellow Lt. j.g. stare down at him.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Here to see Commander Rabb."

"Do you have an appointment?" Bud searched his desk for the appointment book. Bud could swear it was there a second ago.

"Would it be okay if I lied and said yes?" she asked with a cock of her head.

"Commander Rabb is in court all day."

"That's okay, I can wait." she said as she started walking to Harm's office.

"Wait, Lieutenant, you can't just go in." Bud protested but she froze him with a confident smile.

"Well, I'm sure he'd make an exception for the girl who owes him her life, Lieutenant." she winked back before closing the door in Bud's face.

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac very purposely avoided each other as they made their way back to the office. There was no point in tempting fate and getting another dressing down today.

Bud tried to get Harm's attention as he passed by but the junior officer was bogged down by paperwork so Harm waved him back in his seat.

"But sir..."

"Not now, Bud." Harm said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mac admiring the bouquet jungle in her office as he entered his own.

And was surprised to see someone waiting for him. And not just anyone, but a familiar face. She was admiring the picture he kept on top of his filing cabinet - the black and white one of him and his father.

She smiled at him as he entered, "So you're Hammer's kid."

Harm was surprised by her knowledge until she explained.

"The CAG complains a lot about having had two Harmon Rabb's save his six."

Harm chuckled as he greeted the Lieutenant he once saved on the Seahawk. "Skates. What are you doing here?"

"Seahawk's in for turnaround. Just thought I'd drop by and visit my hero." she said with a playful smirk.

"Ha." Harm grinned, "No, seriously. You're not in trouble are you?"

"Nah, just a social call." she replied as she set the picture back to where it was. "So, you ever thought about rejoining flying?" she asked.

Harm was looking through the files on his desk when he replied absently, "Can't. Night blindness."

"You can't see at night?" she asked surprised.

"Can't fly." he admitted sadly. "Sometimes driving's tough too."

"Well, maybe if you came back I can be your eyes." she said with a hint of seduction in her voice.

Harm looked up at her and gave her one of his patented flyboy grins, "That an offer?"

She leaned against his desk, "Well, with the CAG moving upstairs, I find myself without a good pilot of late."

Harm's smile widened before she added, "Or maybe I just have a thing for old guys who fly."

Harm laughed uproariously.

oxoxoxo

Mac was with Harriet going over some of the administrative paperwork that could do with streamlining. Or at least Mac was there physically. Her attention however was diverted, currently more interested in why her handsome JAG partner seemed to be enjoying himself so much talking to his visitor.

"Lieutenant Hawkes and the Commander sure are friendly, ma'am." Harriet said, knowing Skates from their mutual time on the Seahawk and noticing Mac's distracted state.

"Hmm?" Mac turned back to see Harriet staring at her. "Oh, right. Where were we?"

"We were looking at the JA-26193-B form, ma'am... but we can do this later if you like." Harriet offered.

"Hmm? Why?" Mac asked, once again drawn to see that Skates and Harm were standing awfully close to be just talking.

"Ma'am, if you'd prefer to see the Commander instead..."

Mac realized she was being rude to Harriet by not giving her her full attention. "No, sorry. JA-26193-B. Right."

"Ma'am, I'm sure it's nothing."

"What's nothing?"

"The Commander and Lieutenant Hawkes, ma'am. I think they're just reminiscing about him saving her."

"I'm sure."

"I think they're just friends."

"Ah-huh." Mac said, trying to get back to work.

"I mean, it's not like she's the Commander's fiancee or anything..."

"Harriet, if you please." Mac pointed back at the files in front of them, silently prompting her to get back to work.

"Right ma'am. Sorry. Though I wonder what kind of woman the Commander likes."

"He seems to have a thing for Navy Lieutenants." Mac said as an aside as her pen glided over her notepad.

"What was that, ma'am?" Harriet asked.

"Nothing." Mac quickly answered and tried not to drive her pen through the notepad.

oxoxoxo

Harm stuck a fork into his salad, spearing fresh lettuce. It was wonderful weather to have lunch outside and he was glad to have Skates for company, mainly because she was having the same dish as him. It made a nice change from having to put up with seeing the sloppy, messy, greasy slabs of burnt meat Mac claimed were burgers.

"Is it that bad, sir?" Skates asked, prompting Harm to give her a quizzical look.

"What?" he asked, unsure as to the topic.

"Not flying. Is it that bad?" she asked again.

Harm looked at the cute Lieutenant. He'd never noticed just how exotic her features were, but sitting this close in daylight he noticed that her eyes were a lighter shade of brown than he first expected, and her dark brunette hair had lighter streaks, sun-bleached from the hours spent out on Vulture's Row with wet hair.

"You thinking of giving up your wings?" Harm smiled at her, though his eyes betrayed concern.

She smiled back, "No. But I'm not going to be 26 forever."

"You could fly until your forties." Harm offered.

"Don't think the Navy would appreciate me being pregnant in the cockpit, Commander."

Harm almost dropped his fork. "P-Pregnant?"

She noticed his wide-eyed gaze and quickly realized his thoughts, "Not now. But you know, one day."

Realization dawned, "Ah. Who's the guy?" Harm asked.

Skates took a small bite of her salad. "No guy. But that's just it, I'm not going to meet anyone when I'm surrounded by 6,000 frat boys for 6 months on end. Well, anyone serious anyway." she glanced at Harm.

"So this trip to D.C. is a man hunt?"

"You could say that." she looked at Harm more intently.

Harm couldn't help his flyboy grin from slipping out, amused by the idea of Skates going man-hunting. "How's it working out so far?"

"Oh... I've got at least one promising prospect in mind." she said, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.

"Well, be nice to him." Harm smiled as he took a bite of his salad.

"Does he like nice girls?"

"I think he's a fool if he doesn't like you."

"Does he like me?" Skates asked more pointedly.

"I don't know. Who is he?" Harm asked in all seriousness.

Skates was not amused by his cluelessness, "Hmm... Commander, I don't think night blindness is all you have."

Harm shot her a confused sidelong glance, "What?"

"Nothing." Skates looked down at her salad and dug in.

oxoxoxo

Harm and Skates said their goodbyes before he returned to the JAG office. He caught sight of Mac in her room poring over files when he remembered he had to talk to her about Mark Falcon a.k.a Major Sokol.

Getting the file from his locked cabinet, he made his way to her and knocked on her door, surprising her.

"Hey, Mac. Can you spare a second?"

"I don't know if that's wise Harm..." she replied.

"I need to talk to you about the list we found on the Hornet."

Her expression softened. Harm had found a list containing the names of American POWs shipped to Russia during the Vietnam conflict. However, during their escape from Falcon and the shipboard fire, a concussed Harm had dropped the book, losing the list. Mac waved him in and he closed the door behind him.

He handed her the CIA file Clayton Webb - CW - had left in his apartment. Mac opened it and had the same reaction as Harm when she discovered the real identity of Mark Falcon - Major Vitaly Sokol of the FSB.

"FSB?" Mac asked.

"They're like the Russian version of the FBI, except less nice."

"And more dangerous. Harm, they could have killed you."

"Wouldn't be the first time they tried."

At her shocked and questioning gaze, Harm recounted parts of his European adventure during the summer - starting with Lagunov's list.

"Lagunov, Colonel Nyugen. Harm, this list obviously has the FSB riled up..."

"At least I know where my father is, Mac."

"And the Russians know who you are, Harm. The more you push the more they'll come after you."

"What am I supposed to do, Mac? Give it up? Give up on my father the way everyone else has?"

"Harm..."

Mac's office phone rang loudly, interrupting them. Not going to be able to continue talking until she dealt with it, Mac answered.

"Hi, Sarah." Dalton's voice came on.

"Dalt..." Mac looked at Harm before turning away and masking her phone conversation. She whispered her conversation into the phone.

Harm could only make out bits of Mac's side of the conversation, but it was obvious who she was talking to.

"Thank you for the flowers. I... Well, it's... it's nice..." Mac whispered.

Harm rose from his seat, "Catch you later, Mac."

"Harm..." Mac began but he had already walked off. Mac stared at his retreating back before Dalton's voice over the phone brought her back.

"Sarah, is something wrong?"

Mac kept the worry out of her voice. "No, everything's fine Dalton. Just busy I guess."

"Heavy caseload?"

"Among other things. I've to help streamline the administrative paperwork around here too." Mac explained.

She could hear the smile Dalton undoubtedly had as he said, "Ah, paperwork. I remember what a mess our offices were like until we went digital."

That got Mac's attention. "Digital?"

oxoxoxo

Harriet pressed the buttons on the photocopier. And the photocopier proceeded to push Harriet's buttons when it started up, chewed paper and stopped with a hail of mournful alarm beeps.

"Damn it." Harriet cussed as she tried to figure out where the paper jam was now. Popping open the access panel she bent over and reached in.

The paper jam was unmercifully out of her reach, her arms not being able to bend that way to get to it. She tried to pull back but was held back by the machine and she realized with horror - her jacket sleeve was now snagged on some unseen part of the machine, keeping her stuck there.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!"

Harm passed by and noticed Harriet's butt swaying in mid-air and heard her muffled cussing. He moved to help but stopped and backed out. An idea formed as he looked out into the bullpen.

oxoxoxo

"What is it sir?" Bud asked as Harm quickly pushed the man to the copier room.

"You're good with machines, right Bud?" Harm asked.

"Not really sir. I mean, I do alright..."

"Good, because Ensign Sims could do with your help right now." Harm said as he pushed Bud in and closed the copier room door.

"Harriet?" Bud asked Harm before noticing her trapped by the machine.

"Bud? I mean sir, what are you doing here?" her voice betrayed the dismay she felt.

"I..." Bud started to explain but decided that was unimportant. "Hold on, Harriet, I'll get you out."

He got down on all fours and stuck his head inside the machine. He found himself face to face with Harriet.

"Are you okay?"

"Never been better, sir." Harriet said snidely.

"Harriet..."

"I'm sorry sir. I'm stuck."

Bud tried to trace where her arm was stuck and quickly found it.

"Permission to unsnag the Ensign?"

"Just do it, Bud."

He nodded, caught hold of her sleeve and jerked. It gave with a telltale rip but she was free. In their rush to both get out of the confined space of the copier, they bumped their heads together.

"Ow." she said as she held her head. Bud leaned over her, his hands gently cradling her.

"Are you okay, Harriet?"

"Nothing an aspirin won't fix, sir."

Bud noticed the rip in her uniform. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll pay to have it fixed."

"It's okay sir. After all, it was in the course of the rescue." Harriet said looking up at him.

Bud stared at her. "God, you're beautiful Harriet." he sighed before he realized he'd uttered that out loud. "I'm so sorry."

He tried to separate from her but she grabbed hold of his sleeve. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course, Harriet. I think you're the most beautiful woman I know."

"Then why won't you... take the next step?"

Bud realized he had to tell her the truth. As embarrassing as it was.

"I... I'm scared I'll be a let down, Harriet. I'm not... I'm not a great lover. I'm not even sure if I'm a good one."

Her hand snaked out to cup his face. "How do you know if you're not good?"

"Because I'm not sure if I can control myself when I'm with you."

"And what if I don't want control?"

"Harriet."

"Kiss me, Bud."

And Bud did, for a second forgetting they were sitting on the floor of the copier room at JAG. Forgetting that they were both in uniform. Forgetting everything except how he felt for her.

When the kiss broke, Harriet smiled. "You're off to a great start Bud."

Bud smiled and leaned in for another kiss when a loud "Ahem." made them look up.

At Admiral A.J. Chegwidden glaring at the both of them.

"Sir!" both of them yelled as they jumped to their feet. Deep crimson blushes made their presence known on both their faces.

A.J. stared at both his junior officers. "I know the copier room is where we make reproductions, but try not to get too carried away."

The Admiral indicated the beeping copier behind them - still suffering from a paper jam. "And while you two are in here putting your heads together, see if you can find a solution to unstick the machine." he said before leaving the room.

Harriet and Bud shared embarrassed looks before she started giggling. And he couldn't help but see the funny side of things as he gave her hand a squeeze.

"What are you doing tonight, Bud?" she asked and Bud knew what he hoped they'd be doing.

"Nothing yet, Harriet. What do you want to do?"

"Oh, not a lot. Was thinking of going to bed early."

"Oh."

"Is seven o'clock good for you?" she whispered seductively.

"Seven is great." Bud whispered back breathlessly.

"Good. See you there."

* * *

Continued in **Next Chapter**

**AN:** Hope you're enjoying the episode so far. If you are, feedback is nice. If you're not, feedback is also appreciated because I hope you'll lie and say you're enjoying it. :D


	10. Ep 5: Fighting Chance (Part 3)

**AN: **Hi everybody, thanks so much for your feedback. And thanks so much for taking the time to tell me what you really think because your feedback helps me craft this story.

I see where you guys are coming from, and because of that I will do one thing with the whole Lowne saga. I will compress it and fast forward through it. You see, unfortunately there are many elements in the Lowne storyline that I wanted to use to push H&M together. But I also have to thank you guys because you solved a major problem for me - which is basically how to write from episode 7 to episode 15 (Lowne doesn't appear in all of them btw - but enough to piss everyone off apparently). :D

I have already started off on my complete reimagining of the next episode - which makes copious amount of mention of Lowne, but he doesn't appear 'on screen'. After the next ep - I will kick into fast forward. :) I hope that's okay.

But back to the present. This is the third and final part of this original episode. :D

* * *

**Episode 5:  
**Fighting Chance (Part 3)

2203 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Mac noticed the wide dreamy grin on Bud's face, and even if she hadn't heard the scuttlebutt, she would have known he had made up with Harriet.

"Happy dreams, Bud?"

"Hmm?" he stared up dreamily from his desk at Mac. "Oh, ma'am. Hi. No, I was just thinking."

"Anything in particular or just in general?" Mac teased the younger man.

"No, nothing specific, ma'am." Bud blushed, revealing his lie.

Mac saw right through him. She grinned, "Be sure to get 'nothing specific' some flowers as an apology, Bud."

Bud's blush deepened. "Yes ma'am, I will ma'am. Anything else I can do for you, ma'am?"

Mac nodded, "What do you know about office automation and digital filing solutions?"

"Not nearly enough, ma'am. But I can find out more."

"Thanks Bud." Mac said as she turned to leave, before doubling back. "Oh, and Bud, Harriet seemed to like some of the flowers in my office. Maybe you could help yourself to a bunch."

Bud brightened considerably. "Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am."

Once Mac left, Bud got on the phone immediately. He knew the number by heart. It rang and finally someone picked up.

"Hello, Mikey? Hey, it's me, Bud." before having to add exasperatedly, "Your brother. Yeah, hi. Hey, what do you know about digital file management systems?" Bud asked.

oxoxoxo

Done for the day, Harm made his way towards his Corvette convertible. It was a beaut, a 1969 cherry red Stingray that turned as many heads as the owner did.

He heard a low whistle come from behind him, "Nice ride, Commander."

Turning around he was surprised to find Skates in casual attire approach. She had on a nice pea jacket covering up what she was wearing underneath, but judging from her 'take no prisoner' shoes, it probably wasn't her uniform. He smiled at her.

"Skates. You're back."

"Couldn't leave without saying goodbye first could I, Commander?"

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah. Figured since there's nothing much going on here, I'd take a Navy hop back to visit the folks."

"When are you leaving?" he asked.

"Depends on what I'm doing tonight." she replied as she looked up at him.

"And what are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing yet. You have any plans?" she smiled winningly.

Harm smiled back.

oxoxoxo

0000 ZULU  
HARRIET'S APARTMENT  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Bud knocked nervously on the door to Harriet's apartment. He smoothed out the tie he had on and checked that the small bouquet of flowers he had gotten from Major MacKenzie weren't wilting.

The door opened. Soft music was playing and Harriet was standing in the doorway in her white Navy blouse. And nothing else.

"Har..." Bud's ability to talk died as he could only stare. Harriet reached out, took hold of Bud's tie and led him inside.

The door closed and the flowers in Bud's hand soon lay on the floor forgotten. With the rest of their clothes.

oxoxoxo

Dinner was nice and Skates had on a definitely 'take no prisoners' dress to match her shoes. It was red, it was strappy, and revealed enough skin to make any man - including Harm - want to see more.

As obtuse as Harm was, he couldn't mistake her intention - this was a date and by all accounts they were having a good one. Conversation flowed freely, yet no matter how hard they tried to stay away from the subject of flying, it was the one shared joy they had in common and they kept returning to it.

"So CAG went above the storm to get out of the goo." Skates recounted how one time Captain Tom Boone had broken formation to get a visual of their surroundings.

"And what did you see?"

"More goo. But with specks of MIG on the scope." she said with a smile.

Harm was captivated. "What did you do?"

"No one was in the mood for fighting that night, so CAG showed them we had a couple of Fox Threes we weren't afraid of using and they decided to stay out of our way."

"CAG chased them off with Phoenix missiles?"

"No one wants to outrun something that's locked on to their six from 200 miles away." she laughed as she dug into her steak.

Harm went for the salmon variety but after months at sea where the best thing to eat involved not knowing what parts of animal she was chewing, an honest to goodness rib eye was as close to this side of paradise.

"How's the steak?" he asked.

"Heaven." she revealed, "How did a veggie like you find a place like this?"

"Mac dragged me here after a case once. Well, I owed her an apology dinner." Harm smiled.

"Mac?" Skates asked.

"Major MacKenzie." Harm clarified.

"Ah, the Betty with you when you were out on the Seahawk last." she said, and couldn't help but laugh at Harm's look of surprise. "Yeah, the boys on ship couldn't stop talking about her for days. I think half of them were ready to jump ship just so she could court-martial them."

"Would explain the increase in cases we've been having." Harm chuckled.

"So, would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Dip your toe in the company pool."

"Are you asking if I'd date Mac?"

"Well, would you?"

"I don't think I'm Mac's type."

Skates was surprised. "Oh? You mean I have more of a shot with her?"

"No." Harm laughed. "No, Mac likes men."

"But she doesn't like you." she eyed him skeptically. "You know, that's an interesting answer."

"What is?"

"You said you weren't Mac's type."

"Ah-huh." he agreed.

"You never denied she wasn't your type."

Harm shook his head, "We fight all the time."

"Some people like that. And that's not exactly a denial."

"You know you could have been a lawyer." he grinned.

"Maybe that's something to aspire to."

He switched topics, "How am I doing as a date?"

She leaned in closer. "Not bad. Could be better though."

"How?"

"For one, you could be trying harder to get me into bed."

He choked on his drink before looking at her intently, "Is that a requirement?"

"Harm, women have needs too. Believe it or not, with the right guy we'd want it as badly as he does."

"Oh, is that a fact..." Harm paused. Realization struck - _of course, how could he have been so blind?_

"She would, wouldn't she?" he said as it sunk in.

oxoxoxo

The knock on Colonel Murdoch's home in the middle of the night wasn't appreciated, but once Benjamin Murdoch saw who it was, his belligerence softened. He opened the door.

"Commander Rabb. What is it?" Ben asked as he let Harm into his home.

"Sir, sorry for calling on you so late, but I need to speak with your wife, if I may."

"Of course. I'll go get her."

"I'd prefer to speak to her alone, sir."

Ben was surprised by that request but complied. "Okay."

Harm waited for Kayla Murdoch to descend. She didn't have any make up on but it was easy to see why the Colonel loved her as much as he did. She was stunning without trying.

"Commander Rabb. This is unexpected." Kayla said.

"Is there anywhere we can talk in private, Mrs. Murdoch?"

She nodded and showed him out into the deck before sliding the doors closed behind them. "We can talk out here. What is it?"

"How long have you known Corporal Quinn?"

"I don't know what you mean, Commander..." she protested, but Harm cut her off.

"I did some digging. Turns out you lived next door to him when you were teenagers."

"Coincidence."

"Is it?" Harm locked her with his gaze and she folded like poker player with a bad hand.

"We were kids back then. He was... he was the weedy, gawky kid next door that blossomed overnight into... into what he is now."

"You two have history don't you?"

"Nothing you can prove, Commander."

"The fact that you let him into your bed in that motel room is proof enough."

"You can't prove that it wasn't a mistake."

Harm took a deep breath. "Your husband doesn't know, does he?"

"What? That we knew each other when we were young?"

"And that you hid the fact from him. I wonder how he'd see it."

Kayla's expression changed instantly. "You wouldn't."

"Corporal Quinn isn't leaving me much choice. But at least now I know why you two are holding on to the story it was a mistake. Even if he wins, he'd have a permanent mark on his record. He's giving up the Corps for your marriage."

"It's his choice." Kayla said, her expression hardening though her eyes still betrayed a wealth of emotion.

"But it's not yours. What would you choose?" Harm asked making the young woman turn back to face him.

The pain in her eyes revealed the difficult choice she would take. The one she would take every time, no matter what the cost.

oxoxoxo

Mac sat with Corporal Quinn in the brig interview room. She was not in a good mood - Harm had called her in the middle of the night to set up this meet. She wish she could have put it off to the morning, but they were due in first thing and she wan't sure she wanted to walk in to a Harmon Rabb sandbag.

"What did the Commander want?" Quinn asked Mac.

"I'm guessing he wants to offer a deal of some sort." Mac replied.

"Should I take it?"

"Is there a reason why you should?"

"I just want this over with. Move on." Quinn said sadly.

Mac was about to question him in greater detail when Harm entered, with Kayla. Quinn was shocked and stared at Mac who was equally surprised.

"What's she doing here?" Quinn asked.

"It's okay, David. He knows." Kayla answered.

David Quinn stared at her. "Does... does your husband...?"

She nodded sadly. "He'll draw out divorce papers in the morning."

"Kayla, why?"

"Because I've never stopped loving you."

Mac stared wide-eyed at Harm. He motioned for her to follow him out the door, leaving the two lovers some time to talk this through.

Once the door was shut, Mac turned to Harm. "What the heck was that?"

"Kayla and Corporal Quinn used to be neighbors as kids... and more than that when they got older. After Quinn lost his father in Somalia, he joined the Marine Corps, leaving her behind. They kept in touch at first, but soon Quinn dropped off the face of the earth."

"So she married someone else?" Mac asked.

"The Colonel made her rediscover all the feelings she thought she had lost when Quinn left. He was never shy about his pursuit of her and she felt she had nothing left. Nothing better at least. So she settled."

"And then they get stationed here, where Quinn was." Mac filled in the blanks. "I wonder how long they tried to stay away from each other."

"Maybe they shouldn't have been apart in the first place." Harm said, making Mac look up at him. For a second it looked like she yearned to say something. But the second passed, and she looked back at the two former lovers in the room - talking about their lives. And where they would go from here.

oxoxoxo

1300 ZULU  
JAG COURTROOM  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Judge Lt. Col. Michaela Vaughn looked at the two JAG attorneys she had summoned to her chambers yesterday. They had talked to her in those same chambers this morning about a new development in the case.

She turned to them. "I understand that both sides have come to an agreement."

"Yes, your honor." Harm said, and Mac echoed.

"Then in the matter against Corporal David Quinn, this case is dismissed." she rapped the gavel once sharply before turning to the jury, "Jurors, I thank you for your time. You are now excused."

The courtroom emptied in an orderly fashion. David shook Mac's hand before turning behind him to see Kayla waiting for him. He hugged her - free to do so once more.

Harm walked Mac out the doors. She turned back to take in the sight of Quinn and Kayla. "I'm sure Colonel Murdoch would want to throw the book at both of them."

"He would. But it's not his call." Harm said.

Mac looked up at him. "I can't expect you to be much more lenient."

"Hey, I don't see you backing down from a fight either, Mac." he said with a grin. "Think we can hash it out civilly tonight?"

"I'm always civil... wait, tonight's no good." she said, and seeing his questioning gaze, she elaborated, "Prior plans. Sorry."

Harm nodded, getting the picture. "Ah, big date with flower boy. Have fun." he said as he made himself scarce, before she had a chance to explain. Her plans weren't with flower boy... Dalton.

oxoxoxo

Back in his office, Harm looked at his wristwatch. He wondered if Skates was still at her hotel. He dialed the number.

And was disappointed when he was told that Skates had already checked out. He sighed. He'd left yesterday's date a bit abruptly and wanted to apologize.

Harm stared out the window and noticed the dark clouds overhead. The first drops of rain were already starting to fall.

oxoxoxo

Mac shook off the drenched umbrella as she entered the building. She was dressed casually, though sweats and a baggy USMC T-shirt were hardly suitable for a date. Because it wasn't one.

A big banner at the end of the hall had the words "Welcome Big Sisters."

"Miss MacKenzie, thank you for making it. Sorry about the dreadful weather." a plump and homely but very jovial and friendly woman rushed up to her, shaking her hand vigorously. "I'm Mrs. Carmichael, we spoke on the phone."

"Yes, hello, Mrs. Carmichael." Mac said with a smile that was fast becoming genuine. Normally, overeagerness wasn't something Mac found tolerable, but there was just an incredibly sincere sense of joy coming from the woman that Mac found infectious.

"Chloe's real eager to meet you."

Mac smiled good-naturedly, though she knew that the woman was laying it on pretty thick. She doubted that any girl who'd just lost their mom was that eager to meet anyone new.

"I'm eager to meet her too, Mrs. Carmichael." Mac replied, keeping the dread of potential rejection out of her demeanor and voice as the older woman led her to a large room filled with girls already interacting with their big sisters.

Mac saw the girl sitting by herself in the corner and knew instantly that that was the girl she was here to see, even without Mrs. Carmichael telling her.

Mac approached and asked gently, "Hi, this where the cool kids sit?"

Chloe looked up at the tall and very pretty woman talking to her. "Mind if I join you?" the woman continued. Chloe shrugged disinterestedly in reply.

Mac took the chair next to Chloe's. "So what do they do around here for fun?" Mac asked as she looked out at the rest of the room, feigning cool disinterest.

"Nothing." Chloe responded, bored.

Mac glanced at the young girl. "Is that why you're doing nothing?"

Chloe looked at the woman exasperatedly. "You know, you're not the type to wanna sit close to me."

"Oh, why is that?"

"I'm trouble."

"Are you?" Mac was intrigued.

"Yup." Chloe replied, folding her little arms across her chest to show just how much trouble she could be. Mac hid her smile at the cute display.

"Well, lucky you because I like trouble."

Chloe looked up at the woman in surprise. "You do?"

"Hey, I work with trouble everyday." Mac grinned thinking of her partner at JAG. Even his name signified danger - Harm.

"Where do you work?"

"The Judge Advocate General's office. It's a law office for the military."

"You mean like the Army and stuff?" Chloe asked.

"Yup." Mac nodded with a soft smile.

"So you're in the Army?" Chloe asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice, without success.

"Marines."

"What's the difference?"

"For one, we smell better."

Chloe couldn't stop the snorted laugh that escaped. She really didn't want to laugh, but that was the funniest thing she'd heard in a long time.

"Name's Chloe." the young girl stuck out her hand to shake Mac's.

Mac accepted the handshake, "Name's Sarah MacKenzie. But friends call me Mac."

oxoxoxo

The heavens above D.C. unleashed all its rage upon the city. Perhaps it was God's way of washing clean the grime.

One of the unfortunate victims caught in the deluge was a very irate and extremely drenched Lieutenant Elizabeth 'Skates' Hawkes.

She was swearing like the sailor she was as she fought the slippery tire iron. She was stuck on the side of the road trying to change the damn flat she developed on her rental. She was going to miss her Navy transport out of AFB Andrews at this rate.

She had done the hard bits - getting the car on the jack, even muscling the spare out of the trunk. Now her nemesis was a blasted wheel nut that refused to budge. She swore some more.

When an umbrella from nowhere started providing her shelter. She looked up and saw a man. He wasn't the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, nor the tallest, but complaining about those was like arguing which F-14 was coolest. He was tall, handsome, and she liked what she saw.

"Can I give you a hand with that, ma'am?" he asked and she gave him the go ahead.

He worked the tire change like a pro, and soon had the car back on the ground on four working tires.

"Thanks." Skates said demurely, a little loss for words.

"You're welcome. I sure hope you have a change of clothes though." he said glancing at her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you're soaked through and I can't in good conscience let you go about like that."

"I've gotten much wetter before." Skates said.

"Ah. Then I guess my offer for hot coffee and a bite to eat would be wasted?"

Skates looked at him funny. She was sure she looked like a drowned rat and the man was still interested in asking her out for coffee.

"I guess I could do with something hot inside me."

Skates saw his blush go nuclear and then realized how what she said sounded. She stammered, trying to explain her words.

He tried not to laugh. "I'll see what I can do about that, ma'am."

"That's the second time you've called me, ma'am."

"Sorry, force of habit."

"Habit?"

"I'm a Public Affairs officer at the Pentagon." he replied.

"Sounds... boring." Skates said truthfully.

He smiled, finding her honesty refreshing. "It is. But hey, you get to fly about with cool people all the time, so that's a perk. Know the feeling?"

She smiled - boy did she. "I do. Elizabeth Hawkes by the way." she introduced herself.

"Lieutenant Thomas Blake. US Navy."

"Navy you say?"

"Hope you're not intimidated by sailors." he asked worriedly.

"Ha, not intimidated. I think you guys look pretty cute in your dress whites."

"Damn, something told me I should have put them on today."

Skates smiled, "Well, maybe it's something I can look forward to, sailor."

oxoxoxo

0117 ZULU  
MOSCOW, RUSSIA

Giant oil tankers and freighters lined the dock by the Moskva River. Even this early in the morning the dock was busy as fishermen brought in the first catch of the day.

But there were also deep pockets of quiet, and deep shadows to hide in. Two men met in one such shadow, each talking swiftly in brusque Russian, their warm breaths misting in the cold Russian air.

The bigger, more muscular man with a beard asked the clean shaven, shorter, thinner man in front of him. "Where's Oleg?"

"Oleg's busy." the gaunt man replied.

"A job?"

"His wife. She tried to rearrange his face with a frying pan."

"If he has so much trouble with his wife, maybe he's not the right man for the job."

"That's why he sent me."

"Why?"

"Because I solved his problem with the wife."

The muscular man frowned, his beard doing little to hide it, "But you said he was busy."

The gaunt man nodded, "He is. With her funeral."

That was all the bearded man needed to know as he handed over a yellow folder - one filled with assorted pictures and the military records of Harmon Rabb Jr.

* * *

**Next Episode:** Vanished (3x06)


	11. Ep 6: Vanished (Part 1)

**AN:** Yeah, Vanished. The one where we discover Mac has a tattoo - sparking the idea of a million fics.

Okay, word of warning. This is completely not going to play out the way it did in the original series. If you're still interested in what I have done different, read on. :)

**p/s:** I started writing this immediately after finishing the previous episode. I'm churning out these babies as quickly as I can. I can't guarantee quality - though I never do. :P So please let me know what you think of the story, of the scenes, of anything (especially if it's tomorrow's winning lottery numbers). Thanks. :)

* * *

**Episode 6:  
**Vanished (Part 1)

0900 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

It was 4 A.M. on an early Monday morn, an ungodly hour on an already ungodly day. Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie stifled a yawn as she pressed the elevator button that would take her up to the JAG offices.

"Hold it." a male voice called out, waking her instantly enough to press the 'door open' button, allowing her tall, handsome and very decidedly sleepy partner at JAG to enter. "Hey, Mac." he greeted her sleepily.

"Hey." she greeted back, eyeing his choice of attire.

Lt. Cmdr. Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. was wearing a godawful Hawaiian shirt - enough to both assail and offend Mac's senses. "I sure hope you didn't wear that shirt for my benefit." she said.

He looked down at the colorful clashing swirl of fabric. "What? It's a nice shirt."

"In what country?"

"You're giving me fashion advice at four in the morning?" he asked, giving her the once over. The brown oversized furry sweater she was wearing made her look like she was Han Solo's co-pilot.

"At least it doesn't look like I got dressed in the dark. With both eyes closed." she shot back.

The elevator doors opened to JAG with both of them talking at each other, neither one listening.

"Good God, you're already at it?" the voice of their CO broke through their bickering.

"Sir!" both JAG attorneys jumped to attention at the sight of the JAG.

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden scowled at them. He was in a Navy SEAL sweatshirt and carried four grande sized cups of Starboards coffee in a takeout tray, and it looked like he would need all of them to get through this morning. He shook his head at them before heading towards his office, not having the strength to deal with them at the moment.

Mac smacked Harm hard against the arm for getting them into trouble.

"Oof. That constitutes assault, Marine." Harm muttered at her, making sure to keep his voice low.

"Oh, you haven't experienced assault yet, sailor." she muttered back as they followed the Admiral to his office.

And found Clayton Webb sitting in one of the seats.

"Webb." Harm growled, not a fan of the CIA man.

"Rabb." Clay acknowledged his presence. "And good morning, Major." he nodded at the pretty Marine standing by Harm's side.

"I'm afraid there's nothing good about it, Mr. Webb." A.J. interrupted the exchange of pleasantries and dove right in to the reason why they were all here in the dead of night.

"At precisely 0300 Zulu time, we received word from the Coral Sea that one of their Tomcats piloted by Commander Murray Douglas disappeared off the Florida coast."

That got Harm's attention. "Did it go down?"

"If it did, then it went down with a very quiet splash." Clay said, not endearing himself to Harm any further.

A.J. explained in greater detail, "S-and-R have found no trace of the jet, Commander Douglas nor his RIO."

"Another one of your operations gone wrong?" Harm asked the CIA man derisively.

"Oh no, this one is all on you guys."

"Then why are you here?" he asked pointedly.

"I called him." A.J. shocked the two JAG attorneys with his answer. A.J. though didn't have time to play twenty questions, so he explained his decision.

"The State Department has numerous resources to get us near the plane's last known location without alerting the media or locals about it. We do not want people to know we're missing a jet until we know what happened."

"How are we going to investigate without drawing attention, sir?" Mac asked.

"That's where I come in. These are your dossiers." Clay handed out a folder to each of them. He said to Mac, "You're going undercover as an eco tourist - one of those people who hugs trees and takes photos of it, while Rabb here is your pilot guide."

Harm arched an eyebrow, "A pilot?"

"Thought you might like that." Webb said, "And it should fit right in with your personalities. Well, other than Rabb having to listen to orders for a change."

Mac chuckled as she looked up at her partner. "There's a first time for everything."

Harm though was skeptical of anything Webb touched. "Why not send in the local JAG team, sir? Or the SEALs?"

"Why don't we wake up ZNN and have a press conference while we're at it." Webb offered but everyone ignored his snide comment.

"Your reputations in locating hard to find objects precedes you, Commander, Major." A.J. answered before going on, "Finding the plane requires secrecy and discretion. We have to act fast and the fewer people we have to wake up to get clearance, the better. You have your orders."

"Yes sir." Harm and Mac snapped to attention.

oxoxoxo

1600 ZULU  
KEY WEST, FLORIDA

Thanks to a charge card courtesy of Webb and the State Department, Mac and Harm were given carte blanche to buy whatever they needed for the mission. Of course Mac had been tempted to ignore Webb's request for them to keep their receipts, but figured the man didn't need a stroke like he didn't need another three-piece suit.

Traveling without luggage on the first flight out of D.C. Mac decided as a tourist she needed some clothes - and settled on lots of hiking gear, cameras and surveillance equipment, and just for the look of it, several sundresses, one of which she was wearing now.

She waited in the small airport lobby for Harm to be done with his shopping. She noticed his approach and looked up. And wish she hadn't.

It didn't take a genius to see that Harm had probably bought the most hideous Hawaiian shirt in Key West. Possibly in the whole state too. If his earlier shirt was horrible, it underachieved by comparison to this one.

"You bought that to torture me, didn't you?" Mac remarked as he neared. His sly grin let her know that he indeed did. He took in the sight of her, she was quite stunning in her pale yellow sundress. His smile widened.

"Ready to take off, Miss Jones?" he asked, using her cover name.

"I'm ready if you are, Mr. Smith." she answered.

They made their way towards the small white Cessna licensed to Harm's cover name - Harry Smith. It was parked on the tarmac, fueled and checked by Harm earlier while Mac shopped for her things.

Sight of the small plane brought back unpleasant memories. Mac used humor to cover up her nervousness.

"You double checked the fuel line?"

Harm looked up from loading their bags on the plane. "Not that kind of plane, Mac."

He still caught Mac's worried look as she climbed into the co-pilot's seat and made a small sign of the cross.

"Geez, you make one emergency landing..." he muttered as he secured the hatch.

oxoxoxo

The white Cessna flew over miles and miles of green everglade. Far below a maze of marshy rivers and swamps seemed to stretch out forever.

"So any clue as to where we're supposed to look?" Harm turned to Mac. He couldn't help but note how cute she looked, her head sandwiched by the big headphones she wore.

"According to Bud, there's been a lot of unusual activity in this area around the glades." she answered.

"Unusual activity?"

"Bright lights in the sky."

"I didn't see that in any Navy reports."

"Ah. Well, Bud wasn't reading from the Navy reports. He checked with a more local source of information."

"What source?" Harm shrugged, not sure what she meant and urged her to continue.

"Enthusiasts like Bud." Mac explained.

"What enthusiast?"

Mac mumbled her reply. Harm didn't catch it. "What?" he asked.

"UFO enthusiasts." she said a little louder.

Harm glared at her. "UFOs? We're chasing down leads from guys who believe in little green men?"

"... gray." Mac corrected him.

"What?"

"Little gray men. Bud says that most abduction victims specify little gray men, not green."

Harm stared at Mac. "I think you've been spending way too much time with Bud."

"Look, I admit it's a long shot, but I figured Bud's coordinates beats having to spend days just flying about blind."

Harm sighed - she was right and he hated admitting it. "So what are the coordinates of these little gray men?"

Mac read him the latitude and longitude and Harm eased the plane to that heading.

"You don't believe in UFOs and alien life do you, Mac?" Harm asked.

She thought about it, "Well, you can't deny that the possibility might exist. We can't be the only planet in the universe where sentient life evolved. And if life elsewhere is possible, then there might be a civilization with greater intellect and technology out there."

Harm smiled at her reply. "They can't be that intelligent, Mac."

"Why?"

"If you could fly to anywhere in the universe, why would you choose to stop here and kidnap people."

Mac thought about it for a second. "Intergalactic shopping trip?"

That startled laughter from Harm. He eyed his beautiful partner before turning his attention back to the mission at hand.

"Keep an eye out for anything unusual." he said.

"You mean like UFOs?" she looked at him strangely.

He rolled his eyes at her, "I mean like a crash site, or a runway where the Tomcat might have touched down."

"So a place without trees?" she confirmed.

"Exactly."

Mac scanned the ground below them looking for anything that might fit Harm's description. A clearing in the distance got her attention and she grabbed hold of her new SLR camera to get a better look.

Noticing her actions, Harm asked, "See something?"

Mac nodded and pointed in the direction. "Clearing at 10 o'clock." And Harm saw what she meant.

It was a large clearing with a curiously narrow long straight - like a runway. Harm pointed the plane towards it and as they neared, he could see some tarring work being done.

"Looks like they're building something down there." Harm said.

"A road?"

"Strange place for a road, out in the middle of nowhere. Notice anything else about it?"

Mac noticed what he was talking about, "Straight as an arrow. she confirmed as she used her camera to snap pictures. The zoom lens revealed the activity in more detail - several men with machines were hard at work with machines and shovels.

oxoxoxo

The sound of the plane made a weedy, skinny man with a face made out of pockmarks look up and notice the white Cessna. Dropping his shovel, he rushed back to the tarped-off area that acted as the main office.

"General Lambert. Look." the weedy man said, pointing out the plane to the older man who was studying topographical maps of the area.

General Jack Lambert in contrast was fuller in figure, though not necessarily out of shape. Once he might have been the symbol of fitness, but a bad knee coupled with a naturally slowing metabolism had dimmed that symbol somewhat. Leaning on his cane he looked up at the sky.

"Think they're trouble?" the skinny man asked.

Lambert worried his lip a little. "Only if they decide to land. Get the guns."

oxoxoxo

Harm decided to veer the Cessna a little off course, taking them away from the runway. Mac looked up from the camera, confused.

"What are you doing, Harm? They're over there."

"Yeah, Mac, I don't know how much you know of the area, but mysterious runways in Florida aren't usually friendly to unannounced visitors."

At her questioning gaze, Harm went on. "They might think we're DEA agents."

"Drugs?"

"Or anything else worth smuggling into the States from South America." Harm said as he took them away from the clearing. "You got the coordinates?"

Mac took note of the GPS transponder that was installed in the plane. "Yeah." she said as she saved their position on the bulky device. "So what now?" she asked.

"Now, we find someplace to touch down, eat and refuel. And hopefully tonight, we'll get a chance to see bright lights in the sky."

Mac nodded her understanding as Harm veered the plane hard starboard, taking them away from the runway and back to civilization.

oxoxoxo

General Lambert and several men were armed to the teeth - they held assault rifles of all makes and calibers. Seeing the plane veer off, the crew relaxed.

"Back to work." Lambert ordered, before grabbing hold of the weedy man with the pockmarked face, "Billy, when you get back to town, find out who that was."

"Yes General." Billy saluted and exited the tent.

Lambert walked back to the tarped-off area, past several old and rusty trailers hidden under a series of camouflage tents. Also hidden under one of the large tents was one U.S. Navy F-14 Tomcat.

oxoxoxo

0020 ZULU  
AARONSBERG, FLORIDA

The little town of Aaronsberg had two distinct features that separated it from a hole in the ground - a large water tower falling into disrepair, whose faded paintwork once sported the name of the town; and a small flat strip of tarmac that only the most generous or deluded would call an airport.

Nevertheless, for Harm it was exactly the kind of airport suited to his needs - one who didn't have a long wait time and didn't ask too many questions.

The wheels of the Cessna kissed the tarmac, skipping once as Harm had a little too much power for this runway. He eased back on the throttle and soon the Cessna was rolling to a smooth stop before the lone hangar that also served as the airport's passenger terminal and unofficial town's square where the town's elders spent their days sharing news and gossip.

Harm parked the Cessna in one of the empty bays before jumping out. He surveyed the airport before heading over to Mac.

As they unloaded their bags, Mac noticed the pointed looks from some of the people sitting around the terminal. Most of them looked like they were old farmers, though what their crops might be was debatable.

Harm tipped the brim of his baseball cap at them. "Hi there." he said.

All he got in reply was one of the farmers decided to spit out a thick glob of tobacco juice as he stared at the two newcomers.

"Friendly bunch." he whispered to Mac, before trying again to engage the farmers. "Who do I speak to about a refuel?"

The farmers bar one found they had someplace better to be and dispersed. The one that remained though eyed them, especially Mac with her camera, suspiciously. He answered.

"You wanna talk to Zeke by the hangar. You a photographer?" he asked Mac.

"Tourist." she replied with a smile.

"Unless you like photographs of swamp, you came to the wrong part of Florida, missy."

"Actually the swamps are exactly what we're looking to shoot later. Know of any interesting spots?" Mac asked.

The old man snorted, a cross between disdain and a laugh. "Swamps no place for you two at night. Gators come out to play and I wouldn't recommend you tangle with them... unless you wanna leave an arm or a leg behind as a souvenir. Best you hold up for the night and get an early start tomorrow."

Harm looked at Mac, silently communicating their options between them. They were definitely going back out later, but it wasn't a bad idea to have someplace to catch a few hours of shut eye.

Harm turned back to the old farmer, "Thanks for the advice. So where's the closest motel?"

The farmer stared at them. "Motel?"

oxoxoxo

Harm and Mac stood in the large living room of Mama Vern's boardinghouse. Mac took in their surroundings - the interior looked like it could have been designed by Davy Crockett - everything that wasn't covered in animal hide was made out of rough hewn wood.

They stood before a large and stern matronly looking woman whom they both assumed was Mama Vern herself. She was as friendly as an ax murderer, with a face to match. She eyed them both.

"You two married?" she asked from behind the guestbook counter.

Harm was surprised by her question, "Why?"

"Cause we only got one bedroom and I'm not about to endorse any horseplay around here."

Before Harm could reply, Mac put her arm around Harm's waist, leaning against him and surprising him.

"We're engaged." Mac said.

Mama Vern eyed her skeptically, "... I don't see a ring."

"He's working on it." Mac replied.

Mama Vern turned her displeased eye at Harm, seeking his confirmation.

"I'm working on it." Harm echoed as he put his arm around Mac and smiled.

The matronly woman wasn't entirely sold, but business was business. She grabbed a key from the hook behind her.

"I run a respectable establishment here. Any funny business and you're both out of here, got it?"

"Yes ma'am." they replied as one.

Mama Vern came out from behind the counter and led them up the stairs. "Breakfast is at eight and we clean the rooms at ten..."

oxoxoxo

Once they were handed the keys and shut the door behind them, Harm and Mac surveyed their room. There was a small table that doubled up as a work desk and a dressing table, and one very large bed.

Putting down their bags, Harm voiced his opinion of sleeping arrangements. "I'll take the floor. Just pass me the extra bedding."

Mac looked around the room. "What extra bedding?"

Harm realized that there were no closets and anything on the bed was all they were gonna get. Harm checked the floor anyway and found it as unfriendly as the woman who gave them the room.

Mac didn't see the point of making Harm sleep on the floor, especially since both of them needed to be at their best, come what may. And besides, this wasn't their first time sharing sleeping quarters. She reminded him.

"We've shared the same room before, Harm. Hell, we've shared the same bed."

"Yeah, but..." he hesitated.

"But?"

Harm looked at her and said teasingly, "What would Dalton say?"

"Right now? He probably wishes he was you." she deadpanned as she quickly unpacked their gear.

oxoxoxo

A red-hot convertible pulled up to the deserted beach. It was the middle of the night and no one was around, perfect conditions for the two passengers in the convertible.

She was beauty queen pretty and he was no slouch in the looks department either. She climbed on top of him, planting light kisses all over his face before she pulled away and got out of the car.

"Where are you going?" he asked. Her answer was to take off her top. She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Care to find out?"

He didn't need another invitation as he practically threw off his own shirt and ran towards her. They fell onto the soft sand, each giggling as their hands roamed each other's body.

When she touched a hand that wasn't his. She turned to see another man, lying face down in the sand, stripped down to his shorts.

Her scream rent the air.

oxoxoxo

Clayton Webb got off his cellphone and looked at the two Naval personnel he was in the JAG office with - Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts and Admiral Chegwidden.

"That was the Coast Guard. They found the RIO of the Tomcat. He's alive, washed up ashore in his shorts and dog tags."

"That's good news." Bud said before he noticed the dark expressions on their faces. "Right?"

A.J. turned to the junior officer. "Actually it's bad news, Lieutenant."

Bud wasn't sure "Why?"

Webb furnished an explanation. "Because it means that the plane didn't crash."

"But that's good, right?" Bud still didn't get it.

Clay looked him straight in the eye, "Not when it means it was stolen."

oxoxoxo

0325 ZULU  
MAMA VERN'S BED AND BREAKFAST  
AARONSBERG, FLORIDA

Mac stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower and dressed in a gray t-shirt and shorts. She found Harm crouching low to plug in the charger for the bulky satellite phone Clayton Webb had been so kind to provide them with on this mission. He had mercifully shrugged off his horrendous Hawaiian shirt, and stood there in a crisp white undershirt and slacks.

"Hope you like cold water, cause there's all there is." she said as she toweled her wet hair. He straightened up and gave her an appreciative once over. "What?" she asked, noticing his gaze.

Harm stopped staring and averted his eyes. "Nothing."

Mac saw his Hawaiian shirt hanging from behind the door, "I'm glad you took that shirt off."

"Are you?" he grinned cheekily, not amusing her.

"I'm surprised there aren't people in the next state complaining about how loud that shirt is."

"Well, we all can't be dressed as snappily as Dalton Lowne."

Mac raised an eyebrow at that. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Nothing." Harm said. Mac rolled her eyes at that and went to check on the laptop computer she set up earlier. Harm looked back at her.

"Do you like him?" he asked softly.

"Who?"

"Dalton."

She stopped working to look up at him, "Are you jealous?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

Harm looked away shyly, "No. Just figured you weren't the type to fall for moneybags."

His answer burned her. She glared at him angrily. "Is that what you think I see in him?"

"I don't know Mac. All I know is he's lavishing on you all these expensive dinners and gifts."

"And you think I don't deserve them?" she asked, getting angrier by the second.

Harm didn't mean to imply that. "No, of course you do..." he turned to her, and decided this conversation wasn't worth having right now. "You know what, forget it." he said turning to walk away.

"Typical Rabb."

That made him stop. He turned back to her. "What?"

"Every time we talk about us, you run away. Why is that?" she asked, confronting the issue head-on like the Marine she was.

Harm thought about his answer, and spoke as truthfully as he could, "Maybe because whenever we talk, I suddenly realize I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

His honesty cut through her rage, quelling it. She was momentarily at a loss for words but soon recovered. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him.

"Okay, what would you like to know?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Mac, we don't..."

"No, seriously, what would you like to know?"

Harm looked at her. They were now standing on opposite sides of the room, she at the desk, he by their bags. The large bed lay between them. He hesitated.

"Awfully quiet there, Harm." she goaded.

He looked right at her, fixing her with his steely gaze. "What would you give up the Marines for?"

That question left her stunned. "What?"

"What would make you walk away from the Marines?" he asked again.

"I never thought about it before." she answered honestly.

Harm smiled weakly, "You know what, forget it."

She held her hand to stay him, "No, I promised you an answer." She looked deep within herself for the answer, "I guess if I felt I could do more good outside of the service, instead of remaining in."

"Such as?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"I don't know. Such as... fighting for constitutional amendments instead of just practicing law. What is this about, Harm?" she asked, wanting to know what was eating at her partner.

He downplayed it, "Just curious."

Mac had the feeling that ever since he came back from Europe in the summer, he had been pulling away. She was sure it had something to do with chasing after his father. And since he discovered his father was in Russia all these years instead of Vietnam, it had only made him pull away more.

"Harm, are you thinking of leaving JAG?" she asked, not bothering to mask her concern. She looked into his piercing blue-gray gaze, and saw his fighter jock cool hide all emotions there.

"Never thought of it." Harm replied, but Mac wasn't sure if he was being truthful.

The satellite phone squawked to life, breaking the moment and startling them.

"Smith, Jones, you there?" Clay's voice come through.

Harm answered, "Yeah. Don't worry Webb, we're secure."

"Lieutenant Roberts and I are also here, Commander." A.J. said before Clay explained the situation of the plane having been stolen. The RIO had regained consciousness and had filled in some blanks, though the details were still vague at best.

"He claims Commander Douglas pulled into a sustained G-turn to make him black out." Clay said.

"Had to be above 9-Gs for that to happen. Douglas would have been barely hanging on." Harm commented.

"Anyway, at some point they touched down and the RIO came around. He saw Douglas talking with some men out in the woods. When the RIO tried to sneak out, they caught him, beat him up, took his clothes and dumped him in the river. Guess they figured the alligators would deal with him."

"Did the RIO say where they're keeping the plane?" Harm asked.

Bud came on, "No sir, but they found him not too far from the coordinates you sent back, ma'am."

"Not too far is still about 20 square miles of swamp and mosquitoes, Bud." Harm batted back.

Mac asked the Admiral, "What are our orders sir?"

A.J. took a moment before replying, "Same as they always were. Find where the plane is."

"And if we find it sir?" Mac pressed.

"Radio in the cavalry. Lieutenant Roberts and I will come down to help smooth the way, Major."

Bud was surprised, "You, sir?"

A.J. turned to the younger man, "As much as I'm sure you're capable of convincing the Captain of the Coral Sea to provide any support we need, Lieutenant, these Admiral stripes make sure he can't say no."

oxoxoxo

General Lambert's right hand goon was known around town as Ugly Billy. It may not have been kind but it was accurate - he was not a good looking man, pitted old scars shared space with fresh new pockmarks on a face that could turn cheese. Of course, since he joined up with Lambert's men, no one dared call him by that moniker.

Billy and a couple of guys in his posse approached the owner of the only airfield in town, asking questions about the white plane he and the General had seen flying about their camp earlier. Zeke, being a good ol' boy furnished what he knew, which wasn't much, but was enough.

Turning to his fellow goons, Billy ordered them to lie in wait for the owner of the plane. Zeke looked on worriedly.

"I don't want no trouble, Billy." Zeke said to the ugly man.

Billy smiled at the hangar owner. It made his visage even more terrible. "And you won't have any if you just go along. Don't worry, the General rewards everyone who aids our cause." Billy said as he patted Zeke condescendingly on the cheek.

Left unsaid was how the General punished those who didn't aid them.

oxoxoxo

Harm turned over on his little corner of the bed and found himself alone. He blinked sleep from his eyes and found that the room was far from dark - the tiny lamp at the desk was still on, and Mac was sitting there, engrossed in her book. She heard him stir and looked at him with apologetic eyes.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." she said. Harm shook his head indicating that she hadn't.

"What time is it?" he asked, looking for his wristwatch.

"0430." she replied automatically and unerringly.

"How long have you been awake?"

Mac didn't answer. One look at the undisturbed sheets beside him showed that she hadn't gone to bed at all.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern.

Mac gave him a thin lipped smile, "No."

"Do I snore?"

Mac laughed, "No." she said as she tried to return to her book.

Harm though wasn't in the mood to let things go, "What's wrong, Mac?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. I just can't sleep."

"Insomnia?"

"It's nothing new." she sighed sadly before looking at him again, "Guess that's something else you didn't know about me."

Harm adjusted his pillow and sat up in bed, "You didn't have that problem before."

"Before?"

"When I spent the night at your place."

"I guess I was really tired then."

"Maybe we just need to tire you out now."

Mac looked up at him, a sad yet teasing smile on her face, "Red light, Commander."

"Is it now?" Harm smirked. Her gaze hardened and he smiled to relieve the tension, "Lighten up Marine, I wasn't suggesting anything of the sort. So what's keeping you up?"

"Lots of things." she answered glibly.

He gave her a wry smile, "Okay. What's keeping you up now?"

It took her a couple of seconds to answer, but she did. "You ever think that if we grew up under normal circumstances, we'd be who we are now?"

"Define normal circumstances."

"You know, if your father had come back. If my father..." she trailed off, not wishing to rehash her father's sins.

"Do you think of your dad often?"

"Not as often as you, flyboy."

"Is that your way of saying I'm obsessed with finding my father?"

"No, you were obsessed before. Now..." she pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them. "You know, who am I to say right? You have your issues, I have mine."

"Is Dalton Lowne an issue?"

She looked at him confused, "Only for you it seems. Honestly, you've mentioned him far more than I have this week."

"I'm worried I guess."

That made her smile a little more brightly. "Why, Harm, are you afraid you're gonna lose me?"

"I just... hate having to break in new partners, you know?" he said with a smirk.

Mac couldn't completely disguise the look of disappointment on her face, "You know, for a second there, I thought we were gonna have a Hallmark moment."

"I think we're way beyond greeting cards at this point." Harm said with a sad smile of his own.

"How about condolence cards?"

Harm looked at her and saw how tiny she looked curled up in the chair. Harm wished he could make her feel better, but he didn't know how. So he asked. "What do you want, Mac?"

She looked up at him, caught his concern and knew that he was just being a good friend. She sighed, "What every woman wants I guess. A great career, a good man... and comfortable shoes, lots and lots of them." she said with a smile.

Harm chuckled. "You know, when the Admiral first told me he was partnering me with a Marine Major, I had these visions of a tattooed jarhead challenging me to arm wrestling at lunch hour." he said with a widening grin.

Mac smiled back, "Well, I do have a tattoo, I'm a pretty good arm wrestler and although I don't like the term, I am technically a jarhead."

"Whoa, back up. You have a tattoo?" he eyed her, searching every patch of bare skin on her body. "How come I've never seen it? And where would one find this tattoo?"

"I'm afraid that's classified." she laughed.

Her laughter stopped when Harm got out of bed and approached.

"Harm?" she asked worriedly as he neared. Her heart raced, wondering if he was coming over to look for her tattoo. She admired how his muscles looked, barely hidden by the thin white undershirt he wore and even more pronounced in the warm yellow light cast by the desk lamp. He leaned over her, ensuring for four and a half seconds she stopped breathing completely. He grabbed his backpack and took it back to the bed, leaving her breathless and flustered.

"Wh-Where are you going?" she asked when she could breath again, still a little flustered and a lot confused by his actions.

Harm looked back at her, "Well, I figured since neither one of us is getting any sleep, we'd get an early start."

"Ah."

"Unless you wanna show me this tattoo?" he grinned cheekily at her, making her color slightly. She hid her blush by checking on her own backpack.

"Think you can function on a few hours sleep?" she asked.

"Think you can keep up?" he lobbed back.

Mac rolled her eyes at him. "Hey, I'm not the one out past their bedtime, grandpa."

"Grandpa?"

oxoxoxo

0931 ZULU  
USS CORAL SEA  
250 MILES OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA

A large full moon bounced pale light off the metallic skins of F-14 Tomcats on the flight deck. Several F-14s flexed their flaps, looking every bit like giant turkeys ruffling their feathers as they awaited their turn for takeoff. The sound of the catapult's hydraulics and steam launching one of their brethren from the dark flight deck was drowned out by the roar of the fighter's twin engines at full thrust - its jets burning blue against the obsidian sky.

Meanwhile on the brightly lit bridge of the aircraft carrier, the hatch door opened and a familiar tall figure stepped through, removing his hat as he stepped inside.

"Admiral on the bridge." one of the junior officers informed the crew as Admiral A.J. Chegwidden straightened up to his full 6'3" height. Lt. Bud Roberts followed behind him.

"Admiral. It is an honor, sir." the Captain of the Coral Sea greeted the taller superior officer, but A.J. had little time for the pleasantries.

"I just wish the circumstances were better, Skipper." A.J. then turned to the shorter but fitter man standing next to the Skipper, "And you must be the CAG."

"Deputy CAG, sir. CAG's leading the fleet." the man answered. Like the CAG and the Skipper he held a Captain's rank.

A.J. nodded, "Deputy CAG it is then. May I have a moment of your time?" he asked indicating they step outside.

"I'm sorry sir. Can't leave the bridge until all our boys are away." the DCAG replied.

"How long will that take?"

The deputy looked out at the traffic jam on the flight deck. "About 25 to 30 minutes, sir."

"I just need five, and somewhere private to talk, Captain."

"The bridge is private enough, sir." the Skipper offered helpfully.

A.J. turned to the Skipper with some surprise, "So I can assume the entire crew knows the purpose of my visit?"

"Yes sir. Kinda hard not to put two and two together, what with us sending a search party out so often." he nodded, indicating the planes going up outside.

A.J. understood and returned his attention at the DCAG. "How well did you know Commander Douglas?"

"Well enough sir. This would be our third cruise together. Good aviator, good officer."

"Was he popular with the rest of the crew?"

"Yes sir. He was liked and respected, sir. Never heard a cross word said about him."

"No problems on the ship?"

"None sir."

"How about at home?" A.J. pressed.

"Sir?"

"I believe the question is pretty straightforward. Was the Commander having any problems at home?"

"Not that I know of sir."

"But some that you suspect?"

The DCAG suddenly became very tightlipped.

"Captain..." A.J. reminded the younger man subtly that he was talking to a two-star, not one of his aviators in the ready room.

Reluctantly the younger man spilled the beans. "Commander Douglas did looked stressed before the sortie, sir. But that's normal, we're always under some stress before a mission. Part of the job."

"But this was different. Enough for you to notice." A.J. asked.

"Well sir... he and his wife have a new baby. And you know how that is."

"Do I?" A.J. asked, his voice betraying little except annoyance at the man's vague responses.

The DCAG got the clue. He explained quickly. "Baby's not sleeping and as a result, neither is the Mrs. You know the saying sir, happy wife, happy life."

"And Mrs. Douglas wasn't happy."

"Sir, Commander Douglas was an outstanding officer." the DCAG reiterated his belief.

A.J. fixed him with a steely stare. "Let's hope he still is. Where's his locker?"

oxoxoxo

Commander Douglas' locker popped open under the watch of the Chief Petty Officer, who stepped aside for Bud Roberts to inspect. Pulling open the door, they looked at the contents.

There was nothing in it. It had been cleared.

A.J. turned to the DCAG. "I think Douglas knew he wasn't coming back, Captain."

"I don't understand." the deputy CAG glared at the empty locker as if things would magically reappear within it. "Why?"

"There are a lot of reasons. Money chief among which." A.J. answered as he made his way back to the upper deck, Bud and the Captain following closely.

"It's hardly like he was carrying anything classified sir. And it's just one plane. What good would one plane do to a buyer?" the DCAG asked.

Bud supplied a theory, "Well sir, armed with Phoenix missiles, it could shoot down anything within a 200-mile radius. It'd be a danger to every airline on the eastern seaboard."

The DCAG turned to the junior officer, "You think he's going to shoot down 747s? What for? Ransom?"

"It's just an example, sir." Bud replied.

"A bad one. And even if he did hold them hostage, we'd lock on to him and bring him down before too long." the DCAG explained.

A.J. paused at the top of the stairs and glared back at the pilot. "That's good to know, Captain. But tell me, how many missiles would it take to bring down a plane like Air Force One?"

All of them knew the answer to that was not very many at all.

* * *

Continued in **Next Chapter**


	12. Ep 6: Vanished (Part 2)

**AN:** I wanna thank all the people who continue to review, favorite or follow this fic. I know it's not a conventional shipper fic, or even a conventional fic, but I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one who wants to reboot this series and that you guys actually enjoy what I'm doing with it. I thank you for your support and I hope to continue delivering kick ass episodes :)

This is the 2nd and final part of my take on Vanished.

* * *

**Episode 6:  
**Vanished (Part 2)

0945 ZULU  
AARONSBERG AIRFIELD, FLORIDA

Ugly Billy was snoring softly in one of the office chairs - his legs propped up on Zeke's desk, when the door to the office opened, waking him. He peeked out from under the brim of his cap at the burly man who dared to disturb him.

"Billy, we got two coming in, a man and a woman. Zeke says it's them."

Billy nodded lazily. "Guess we should show them some hospitality."

oxoxoxo

It was still dark out when Harm and Mac approached their white Cessna. Knowing the condition with his eyes, Mac couldn't help but ask if Harm was sure this was the best idea.

"Harm, can you fly this dark?"

"Don't worry, Mac. Going up's the easy part. By the time we get to where we're going, there should be enough light for me to land." he said as he unlocked the plane, dumped his bag inside and walked away.

"Harm?" Mac called out when she saw him head towards the hangar.

"Gotta fuel up to get us airborne." he explained before disappearing into the darkness.

He didn't get that far when the first goon snuck up on him and struck him in the stomach. Harm doubled over.

Mac was finishing loading up the plane when the second goon snuck up behind her. He licked his lips in anticipation, this was gonna be his lucky day, wrestling with a pretty woman.

Unfortunately, no one told him he'd be wrestling with a Marine. The minute she felt his hands grab hold of her, she whirled round and delivered two quick strikes to his face, before delivering a swift knee to his family jewels. As he moaned in agony, Mac heard sounds of a scuffle in the distance. Harm!

Harm was trading punches with the large goon who was built like a house and was as tough as a tank. But he was also as ungainly and as slow as one, and after the initial surprise blow, Harm had recovered to inflict some damage of his own. He easily dodged the goon's punch before delivering two quick jabs to the man's jaw. He ducked under another wild swing before he sent a crushing right hook to bring the goon down.

Harm's elation at his victory however was short lived the minute he heard the cocking of a handgun. He looked behind him, at the ugliest man he'd ever seen.

Ugly Billy aimed the Sig Sauer at Harm. "Down on the ground." he ordered the tall Navy man. Harm did as he was told, Billy didn't seem like the kind of man who possessed a better nature one could appeal to.

Billy walked over with an all too smug smile on his face. "Not so tough now, are you?" Billy said, relishing in the power the gun in his hand gave him.

Harm glared up at him. "Put down the gun and no one gets hurt."

Billy laughed so hard he almost choked on his own saliva. "I think you've got things a little backwards here. My gun, my rules, my questions. Now where's your lady friend?"

"Right here." she said, before she swung a wooden bar right against his hands, making his shot miss by a country mile. When Billy tried to aim the gun back at her, another home run worthy swing made him drop his gun and fall to the ground clutching his hands. Billy screamed in agony as he writhed on the floor.

Mac held the wood beam like a baseball bat over her shoulder as she looked at her partner. "Need a hand?"

"Nah." Harm said as he got to his feet. "Where'd you learn to swing like that?"

"Oh, here and there." she replied cryptically with a smile on her lips. "What would you do without me, flyboy?"

"Let's hope I don't have to find out." Harm replied as he picked up the gun and approached Billy. "Now our gun, our rules, our questions. Who do you work for?"

"You broke my hands!"

Harm nodded, "Be thankful she didn't break your jaw." though that might have been an improvement to his looks. "Who do you work for?" Harm repeated.

Billy tried to remain defiant, but once he was looking down the barrel of the gun, he discovered a new desire for self-preservation.

"General Jack Lambert of the Freedom Brethren." Billy spilled his guts.

oxoxoxo

Mac was driving Billy's off-road jeep through the muddy trails leading up to Lambert's base of operations. Trussed up in the back with unbreakable nautical knots was Billy, providing them directions to Lambert.

Harm was riding shotgun, speaking to Bud over the satellite phone. "Keep us posted Bud. Over and out." Harm said before hanging up.

"What did Bud say?"

"Apparently, General Jack Lambert is no General after all." Harm eyed Billy. "Lambert was a Staff Sergeant in the Corps, but was dishonorably discharged after striking a senior officer."

Billy glared at Harm. "That doesn't make him any less of a great man."

"He's a fraud."

"He'll save us from eternal damnation!"

Mac frowned, "What's he talking about?" she asked Harm.

Harm replied, "According to his records, Lambert had rather radical religious beliefs."

"Which are?"

"That the end of the world is nigh, and preparations must be made in the upcoming battle against evil."

"What preparations?" she asked, and Harm shrugged. And Billy wasn't telling either.

oxoxoxo

It was already mid-morning by the time they got to Lambert's base. On the ground, it was evident that it was a larger scale operation than they anticipated, more of the glade had been cleared as most of the vegetation they'd seen from the sky were actually camouflage tents hiding numerous RVs, tractors and heavy machinery.

"See anything interesting?" Harm asked Mac as she looked through the viewfinder of her camera, the zoom lens giving her a better vantage of the site.

"No. Wait, I see Douglas." she replied before handing the camera to him. He took hold of the camera and looked through it.

The lens auto-focused and found what Mac had seen - Commander Douglas in his flight suit, being led at gunpoint. "That's Douglas alright. Doesn't look like he's actually cooperating with them..."

Harm caught sight of a woman holding an infant protectively against her chest also being herded at gunpoint. Douglas moved to protect them but the muzzle of a AK-47 reminded him he wasn't in charge here.

"Guess we know why Douglas took the plane." Harm said as he handed the camera back to Mac. "They have his wife and kid."

Checking to see that Billy was still tied up and gagged, Harm used his satellite phone to call in the cavalry. Returning to Mac he gave the coordinates to Bud.

Bud read back the numbers Harm gave accurately.

"Good man." Harm replied as Mac kept eye on the airfield. There was some flurried activity happening, and after a few seconds, Harm and Mac could see why.

They were towing the Tomcat out onto the runway, running a systems check with Commander Douglas supervising. With the Freedom Brethren holding Douglas' family, they knew he wouldn't try anything funny.

"Are they ready to launch?" Mac asked.

Harm observed for a few additional seconds before answering. "No. They aren't gassing her up to go, so it's just a shakedown to make sure everything's running. But they could be prepared to take off at anytime." Harm responded before turning to the satellite phone. "Bud, how far out are you?"

"Our ETA is 70 minutes, sir."

"Whatcha thinking, flyboy?" Mac asked as she read his pensive expression.

"We sit and wait." Harm said, before a loud crushing thud landed close by. Harm and Mac looked behind them to find Billy had rolled himself painfully out of the back of the jeep and was now making a ruckus on the dry vegetation. Lambert's men were alerted to the sound and they converged on their location.

Harm turned to Mac, "Or we run like hell."

oxoxoxo

Some of Lambert's men found Billy thrashing about and kicking at tree trunks to make noise. One of the gunmen removed his gag.

"Get me to the General. Now!"

oxoxoxo

Lambert stood outside his tent when he saw some of his men drag the injured Billy to him. Lambert eyed the weedy man as he was pushed in front of him.

"General, the two in the White Cessna, they're out there in the woods. A man and a woman." Billy reported.

"And you led them here?"

"I'm sorry sir. I… I failed."

For a second it looked like Lambert might punish the poor sap. But that second passed once Billy went on.

"But, I heard them, sir." Billy said, drawing Lambert's attention once more. "They radioed in for help and ETA is 70 minutes."

Lambert's face turned red with rage. He looked at his guards. "If you find those two, shoot to kill." He turned to the rest of his men, "The rest of you, prepare the Tomcat for take off. The time has come for our battle to begin."

Turning to Billy, Lambert smiled. He put a friendly arm around the skinny man showing real compassion, "You did well, Billy. We better fix you up. The fight against evil is coming and I need every available soldier to take on the devil's army."

"Sir, yes sir." Billy responded, his chest puffed out with pride.

oxoxoxo

Harm led Mac around the shadows cast by the RVs. Lambert's men were so engrossed at looking for them in the woods, they hadn't realized that their prey had actually made it inside the base.

Mac held Billy's gun tightly against her, ready for use though she knew once she used it, the gig was up - the sound of her firearm would give up their location. So they stayed in the shadows, ducking in between the RVs to remain hidden.

Harm used his considerable height to peek in through the windows. He saw something of importance and quickly held Mac back. She raised questioning eyes at him.

"Douglas." Harm pointed at the trailer. Mac nodded, instantly understanding.

Harm and Mac peeked around the corner to see the lone guard standing watch over the trailer with his AK-47. He was on high alert. But easily distracted.

Tossing a stone in the opposite direction, Harm got the guard to look. As the guard aimed his gun in that direction, Mac sneaked up from behind and choked him unconscious.

Harm quickly dragged the unconscious guard and hid him under the RV as Mac took the guard's keys and unlocked the RV door.

oxoxoxo

The door sprung open and Douglas with his family looked up in surprise at Mac.

"Who…" he began but Mac's finger to her lips signified quiet. Harm quickly joined them.

"Commander Douglas and family, I presume. Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. and Major MacKenzie." he introduced before quickly explaining the situation. Douglas deflated at hearing that Harm and Mac were alone and help wasn't due for another 58 minutes, according to Mac's infallible sense of time.

They learned from Douglas the mission Lambert wanted him to take up. Yasser Arafat, Chairman of the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), an organization that Lambert believed to be the embodiment of pure evil with a history of bloodshed, terror and corruption, was traveling to the United States aboard a commercial airliner. Douglas was to make sure the plane didn't reach its destination.

"Murray, you can't. All those innocent lives…" Mrs. Douglas exclaimed.

"What choice do I have, Lee? Lambert will kill you and Kim if I don't do as he says." he said, brushing the light hair of his infant daughter gently. He turned to Harm and Mac, "Can you at least get them out of here?" Douglas asked.

"We aren't leaving without you, Murray." his wife protested.

Mac also scuppered Douglas' suggestion, "Lambert's men are combing the glades for us, so sneaking out might be impossible."

Lee sighed, "If only we could stop Lambert from using the F-14."

"I can't sabotage the plane, Lee."

"Maybe you don't need to sabotage it." Harm replied, thinking of another option. "Not if we stole it."

Everyone turned to him, wide-eyed. "You know how to fly an F-14?" Douglas asked.

"You better believe it." Mac replied. "Harm, how are you going to steal a plane?"

Harm looked at Douglas. "Commander, can you get us to the plane?"

"I can try."

"Well then, let's try."

oxoxoxo

After finding a hiding place for Mrs. Douglas and her baby, Harm, Mac and Douglas sneaked out to the plane. They encountered minimal resistance, easily knocking out the untrained Freedom Brethren.

As they approached the F-14, they noticed it was already hooked up to the refueling rig and drinking thirstily.

"Good, they're fueling her up." Douglas said.

"They must have panicked knowing we were on to them. Lambert must have decided to move the jet." Harm surmised.

"You'll need the G-suits and helmets. Lambert keeps them in his office." Douglas said.

"What's a G-suit?" Mac asked.

"It's what keeps the blood from pooling in your toes when we fly, Mac. It helps us stay conscious in high-G situations." Harm answered.

Understanding the importance of the suits, Mac asked, "Any chance we can get at them?"

"Not that I know of." Douglas admitted.

"We'll prep the plane first then work on getting the suits." Harm made the decision.

Seeing that nobody was paying attention, Douglas quickly ran up the ladder hooked up to the F-14s cockpit and started up the jet's electronic systems. Harm checked that refueling was done and inspected the rest of the plane to make sure it was okay. Mac meanwhile kept watch for any sign of discovery, her gun ready if needed. Harm rejoined her.

Douglas jumped down from the cockpit and returned to Harm and Mac. "System's all ready to go." he reported.

oxoxoxo

Meanwhile a guard passing by the trailer where the Douglas' family was initially held, was alarmed by the lack of a guard standing by the door. Upon closer inspection, he found the unconscious guard hidden under the RV. Throwing open the door, the guard was confronted by an empty RV. He radioed for help.

"General Lambert, we've got a problem!"

Hidden under another RV nearby, Lee cradled Kim, keeping the infant quiet as all around them, the boots of the Freedom Brethren ran about, their angry voices filling the air.

Like kicking a hornet's nest, the base was suddenly alive with furious activity. A guard spotted Harm, Mac and Douglas and took aim, but Mac's more accurate aim took him down. The sound of the gunshot though was loud.

Douglas cussed and turned to them, "We've been discovered. Quick get the jet."

Mac hesitated, "But the G-suits…"

"There's no time." Douglas said, "Hope you're as good as you think you are, Rabb."

"Keep safe, Commander." Harm replied and shook Douglas' hand. The aviator quickly ran back to his family.

A bullet zinged dangerously past Harm's head. Mac whirled around and her sharpshooting took out the threat, before Harm grabbed her by the hand and led her to the F-14. He helped her into the cockpit, before he climbed up into his own.

Harm punched the series of buttons and taxied the fighter down the runway as Mac strapped into her seat. "Harm, I'm not dressed for this."

"Yeah, well, let's just hope we don't have to fly too far in this thing."

Another bullet bounced harmlessly off the lowering plexiglass cockpit, reminding them they weren't out of the woods yet.

"Hold on tight, Mac." Harm said, as he opened up the throttle to full and they blasted down the runway.

oxoxoxo

Ignoring the chaos all around him, Lambert limped out of the tent to see the F-14 rocket past and take to the sky.

He glared at the sight of his dreams get away and a slow, intense fury finally twisted his mouth into a sneer. He walked over to a crate and dragged out a rocket launcher armed with Stinger surface-to-air missiles.

No one was going to steal from him and get away with it.

oxoxoxo

Two Navy helos glided low over the treeline of the everglades.

One of the helos carried Admiral A.J. Chegwidden, Lt. j.g. Bud Roberts and a coalition of Marine Force Recon and Navy SEALs,

"How much longer, Lieutenant?" the Admiral asked the pilot of the helicopter.

"Not too much further, sir." the pilot answered. "If your team's coordinates are right."

"Let's hope they are." A.J. said quietly, partly praying they were.

"Sir! Look!" the pilot pointed out the gray speck flying up in the distance. "That what I think it is?"

"Well, I'll be." A.J. remarked. The sight of a Tomcat blasting off from the woods, making good its escape like a bat out of hell, surprised them.

"Guess we know where they are." A.J. understated before he saw a thin vapor trail chase after the Tomcat. "What's that?"

The helo pilot squinted at the sight and identified the small object chasing after the F-14, "That's a Stinger missile, sir. Someone's firing at the jet!"

oxoxoxo

The alarm bells in the Tomcat were going crazy, freaking out as the Stinger missile on their tail closed in.

Harm reached over and pulled the switch releasing chaff. The Stinger missile on their six though didn't bite. "Damn." Harm said, as he zigged trying to lose the lock the missile had on them.

"Why aren't we flying faster?" Mac asked.

"I'm flying as fast as I dare, Mac." the plane already pushing way past Mach 1.5 and not getting away from the missile. "I can't just turn on the afterburners and hope we don't lose consciousness." Harm said, keenly aware that neither he nor Mac were in G-suits or helmets.

The alarms seemed to scream even louder as the missile got ever closer.

"Harm…" Mac couldn't keep the fear out of her voice.

Making a decision, Harm pulled back on the flight stick, sending the Tomcat into a steep climb. "Hang on!"

The Tomcat and the Stinger raced upward, the F-14 desperately seeking a ceiling height beyond the Stinger's capabilities.

It was going to be a close race.

oxoxoxo

The sound of helicopters approaching made Lambert turn the rocket launcher armed with a second Stinger missile at them. Navy SEALs dropped from them via zip lines, securing the perimeter. Lambert took aim at the helo but he didn't get a chance to use it as one of the Navy SEALs sneaked up from behind and quickly disarmed him.

Lambert tried to strike back but he wasn't the fit man he once was and the much younger SEAL had the 'General' on his back. Lambert looked around and saw that his men had been similarly rounded up, all on their knees before a battalion of SEALs.

When one of the helicopters set down, Chegwidden and Bud jumped out. They saw that the SEALs had everything under control and moved to take stock of the situation. Chegwidden was surprised though when he saw Commander Douglas and his family being escorted by a SEAL. "Commander Douglas. You're not in the jet?" A.J. revealed his surprise.

"No. Rabb's plan was to steal the plane so Lambert couldn't move it."

"Rabb?!" A.J. felt the blood drain from his face. He looked out at the clear sky, the plane and the Stinger missile nowhere to be seen.

oxoxoxo

Harm felt the strain as the G-forces were beginning to pull blood from his head down into his legs. The alarm bells were beginning to sound muffled in his ears and the edges of his vision were beginning to get very dark.

He heard Mac slump unconscious as the G-forces finally blacked her out. Harm fought unconsciousness as he read the altimeter - 11,800 feet, 11,900 feet…

Reaching for the chaff button, he dropped a couple more, and mercifully, this time the missile bit, chasing the rapidly dropping countermeasure where it detonated. But bits of shrapnel caught part of the Tomcat, sending all forms of errors across the plane's instruments.

Harm leveled the plane off and gasped for air. Without helmets, he had no access to respirators. His face was flushed with the effort of getting air into his lungs. He reached for the comm button and then realized…

No helmet. No communications.

"Aw hell."

Mac started to recover from her blackout and looked around. "Harm?" she asked, ignoring the sense of cottonmouth once she saw all the alarms going off. "What's wrong?"

"We've been grazed. Nothing major." Harm replied, his voice cool and steady.

Mac knew he was lying, because everything capable of flashing red in the cockpit was flashing right now. She looked out the window and saw that they were heading out to sea. A new panic rose up to grip her.

"Where are we heading, Harm?"

"We have two options Mac. One we find the Coral Sea."

"And two?" she asked worriedly.

"How good of a swimmer are you?"

oxoxoxo

The Comm Officer aboard the Coral Sea turned to the Captain of the ship. "Skipper, Admiral Chegwidden on the horn, sir."

The Skipper took up the horn, "Admiral, what is it, sir?"

"Captain, I need you to send a couple of jets up, now."

"Why?"

"Because your missing Tomcat is in the air with a Stinger missile locked on its tail."

"Douglas is in the air?"

Commander Douglas came on the radio. "No sir." he replied before explaining the situation to the Skipper of the Coral Sea.

"This JAG lawyer is flying one of our jets?" the Captain asked.

"If the Stinger didn't get him." Douglas said.

At the Comm Officer's shake of his head, the Skipper reported, "We can't raise him on the radio."

"Well, sir, they don't have radio."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because they don't have helmets." Douglas replied.

"What?"

"Sir, we have something up on the scope." the Radar Officer interrupted. "It's a Tomcat."

"Ours?"

"Yes sir."

"Get a crew out there and bring it in!" the Skipper ordered before getting back on the radio to report the new situation. "Admiral. I think we have your man…"

oxoxoxo

Harm spotted the aircraft carrier in the distance and adjusted his heading. The Tomcat was performing admirably, even though Harm could feel through the controls that it was doing its best impersonation of a wheezing, coughing, dying old man.

"Come on, baby. You can do it…" Harm coaxed the Tomcat, hoping his sweet talk might convince the bird to give him that little bit of necessary extra.

Mac gripped the console in front of her with white-knuckle terror, her beautiful brown eyes impossibly wide. "Please tell me we're gonna be okay, Harm." she begged.

Harm wished he could, but he reassured her the best he could anyway, "Hang on Mac. This isn't gonna be one of my best landings."

"If we walk away from this one, flyboy, it'll be your best one yet." she replied.

Despite the situation, that reply brought a smile to his lips.

oxoxoxo

The crew of the Coral Sea rapidly moved jets from the flight deck, clearing it completely in preparation for the incoming F-14. Emergency crews waited in the wings on high alert.

Looking through binoculars, the LSO caught sight of the damage to the incoming Tomcat. "He's bleeding fuel, sir." the LSO reported.

"Can he make it?" the Skipper asked.

"He's got enough speed…"

That didn't answer the Skipper's question completely, he asked again, "LSO, can you get him down without radio?"

"I don't know sir. How good is this guy?" the LSO asked.

"I hear he has a DFC." the Skipper replied.

The LSO looked at the plane worriedly, "Well sir, if he sticks this landing, I think we should give him another."

oxoxoxo

Harm saw the LSO fire up the lights that helped with night carrier landings and smiled. Even though it was broad daylight, those lights were the best way to communicate if he was okay or he was too low.

He heard Mac pray quietly in the back and couldn't help but say a silent one himself. He flicked his landing gear down, "Here we go." he said to no one in particular and eased the plane downwards.

The F-14 danced shakily in the air, looking vulnerable every bit of its approach. The engine coughed and sputtered, requiring Harm to work the throttle for all its worth, like balancing the clutch of a 40,000 lbs Ford Pinto trying not to explode on contact. The conditions fought him, but Harm proved more than a match as he successfully compensated for turbulence and damage to bring the Tomcat in on the third wire. It wasn't just a great landing, it was perfect.

As Harm powered down the jet, Harm could hear the elation of the crew all around them through the canopy.

"Are we down yet?" he heard Mac say behind him and Harm couldn't help but laugh at that - their nerves melting away in a spate of silly laughter. Harm took a moment as the crews helped Mac down first. He would never admit it, but his legs were like goo right now, and he wasn't sure if he could get out unassisted. The moment passed and soon feeling returned to his legs.

When he climbed out of the cockpit, Harm was instantly swarmed by the crew all congratulating him. He was surprised when Mac reached over through the crowd and kissed him full on the lips, drawing several catcalls.

She let go of him far too soon for his liking. She smiled at him, "I'll never make fun of your flying ever again, flyboy." she said before she let the rest of the crew continue feting him.

oxoxoxo

TWO DAYS LATER  
1340 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Chegwidden stared at the three officers under his command, Rabb, MacKenzie and Roberts.

"I'd like to congratulate you on a job well done. Perhaps not the most conventional way of solving the case, but no one's complaining about the results."

"Thank you sir." the three officers chimed as one.

A.J. continued, "The FBI are taking over Lambert's prosecution. Kidnapping after all is a federal offense, not to mention amassing an arsenal of military grade weaponry. Since Lambert's already been dishonorably discharged, we don't have to get involved."

"Sir, what about Commander Douglas?" Harm asked, knowing that Douglas' actions - no matter how understandable, were still wrong and a general court-martial awaited the aviator.

A.J. nodded, understanding Harm's concern. "The Captain of the Coral Sea is willing to back any claim that Commander Douglas' F-14 was stricken while in mid-flight and he set it down on a local runway to make repairs. Of course, for that to stick, none of what you did can be considered official."

"Understood sir." Harm replied, willing to give up credit if it helped save Douglas' career.

"Of course, it all depends on what the SecNav and the FBI decide. But I'll personally appeal Douglas' case if necessary." A.J. said as he sat down at his desk. Realizing the three of them were still standing in his office, he looked up at them with surprise, "That's all. Dismissed."

"Yes sir!" all three chimed before turning on their heel to leave.

After leaving the Admiral's office, Mac looked up at Harm, "Hey, you feel like getting a bite tonight?" she asked.

He smiled down at her, "Sure. You buying?"

She rolled her eyes at him and looked to answer when Harm heard his office phone ring. "Hold that thought." he said with a smile as he ducked into his office to take the phone call.

When he heard the voice on the other line, the smile on his lips disappeared completely.

Mac had a smile on her own while she organized the messy piles on her desk. Her office phone rang and she picked it up, cradling it against her ear as she put away files into her filing cabinet.

"Major MacKenzie." she introduced herself, before her own smile dimmed.

Harm exited his office and looked for Mac. He knocked on her door, "Mac, about tonight."

She looked at him, putting her hand over the phone receiver. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, something came up." Harm apologized. "Maybe next time?"

"… Sure." Mac said with a smile that was a little forced. After Harm left her office she returned to the phone. "Hi, yeah Dalton. Yeah, I'm not sure if I'm up…"

"I just got back from an investigation, so I might not be good company." she tried again to cry off.

"But…" Mac said, but Dalton obviously wore her down. "I guess…"

Mac looked pained, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "Yeah, I guess dinner sounds nice."

"Yeah. Eight is fine." Mac said as she looked out her door.

oxoxoxo

2345 ZULU  
MCMURPHY'S TAVERN

Harm entered and instantly saw the person he was here to meet sitting by the bar, eating the complimentary nuts - being far too cheap to actually order anything. Harm walked over and glared at the man in the cheap suit.

"Agent Turqay."

"Commander Rabb. How have you been?"

"Considering I haven't heard from you in almost a year, not good."

Turqay had aged some in the time since Harm saw him last, his mustache now touched by flecks of gray. The man's cheeks were also a little sunken and his glasses no longer seemed to fit so well on his face.

"I know I gave you a hard time." Turqay said.

"You had me arrested!" Harm hissed.

"Well, Commander, considering you assaulted Lamm, who wound up dead less than 24 hours after, what would you have me do?"

Harm took a breath to control his rage and finally sat down. He waved away the bartender before turning back to Turqay. "You could have found who killed Diane."

Agent Turqay was the lead NCIS investigator into the murder of Diane Schonke - the woman Harm was once, and maybe still was in love with.

"… You're still convinced Lamm wasn't the one." Turqay asked.

"And you are?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. I'm being transferred."

That threw Harm, "Where?"

"Hawaii."

Harm's voice dipped, his anger barely masked at this point, "Not solving cases land you a plum assignment like that?"

"I've put 15 years into this job, Rabb. And it's not my choice of destination. It's my wife's." Turqay fired back, his eyes equally ablaze with resentment.

"You're going because of her?"

"What would you do if your wife asked you to either move with her or lose her forever."

"I wouldn't know. I didn't get the chance to find out."

His meaning wasn't lost on Turqay. The older man nodded and reached into his bag, pulling out several envelopes - some open, though many others still intact. "Anyway I'm here to return these to you." he handed them to Harm.

Harm looked at the envelopes and was stunned. He looked back at the NCIS agent. "Diane's letters. Don't you need them?"

"As far as NCIS is concerned this is a closed case. Lamm killed her. Reading love letters to you isn't going to prove anything else."

Harm felt like he'd been bisected and left out to dry. He glared at Turqay. "How many of these did you have to read to come to that conclusion?"

"Enough to know why you won't let it go."

"But not enough to want to help me."

"I'm already helping you, son." Turqay looked at him sadly. "Let her go. If you believe that she loved you, you know she would have wanted you to be happy - even without her."

Harm looked down at the letters before bringing his hand up to mask his eyes, hiding his tears that found themselves rushing to the fore.

Turqay couldn't help but feel bad for the Naval Officer. He rose from his stool and patted Harm lightly on the shoulder. "I've got to go. Take care of yourself, Commander." Turqay said before walking away.

Harm stayed at the bar, fighting back the tears. Once more he was alone with only his memories and Diane's letters to sustain him.

* * *

Next Episode: **Above And Beyond** (3x08)

**AN:** I haven't figured out exactly how to tackle the next episode so it might take me a while to produce it. But I hope to figure it out as soon as I can, so wish me luck :)


	13. Ep 7: Above and Beyond

**Warning: **Lengthy Author's Note.

**AN:** Happiness is a new story. Unless it's written by me. Then it's full blown delirium :D

Thanks for continuing to read and support this series. I have received so much wonderful feedback that has helped me develop this series into something better than I could have made on my own.

Okay, my long absence from FF-dot-net has been due to several mitigating factors, one - a personal life. I seem to have finally discovered one :). Two - work. While it is my least favorite thing to do, it is also the one that keeps me fed and clothed with a roof over my head. And it also pays for my internet, therefore it is vital. And three - I rewrote these stories several times over the past... month and a half, and I hated each rewrite.

It was only a few days ago (in the shower - where all the world's second best ideas come from) that I had an epiphany of sorts. The reason why I'm rewriting these stories isn't to show up the original writers of JAG. The reason why I AM rewriting JAG is to explore how its possible for Harm and Mac to come together and the show can continue being compelling.

So it is with that thought that I'm concentrating on their emotional story arcs.

p/s: to everyone I can't thank via PM, I will take some time to thank individually (part 1) - at Guest(s) - whomever you / you guys are, thank you so much for taking the time to write a little note to me, telling me how much you enjoy my story. :D Thanks.

* * *

**Episode 7:  
**Above And Beyond

2100 ZULU  
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE COMMAND  
CORONADO, CALIFORNIA

Lt. Curtis Rivers was a hero. In the dark of night, he infiltrated the hideout of terrorists who held the US Undersecretary of State - Lawrence Culbertson - hostage and single-handedly dispatched eight enemies during the daring rescue. It was an act of bravery that prompted the Undersecretary to sing Rivers' praises and nominate the man for the highest military honor the United States could bestow - the Medal of Honor.

However there were several problems. One, Rivers seemed reluctant to accept his nomination. And two, Rivers' SEAL team were equally unwilling to support him.

The JAG team consisting of Lt. Cmdr. Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr., his partner, Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie and their assistant, Lt. j.g. Bud Roberts were sent to vet the Lieutenant for his suitability to receive the medal, a process normally suited to the nomination committee, but had been handed to them instead. It should have been a clue as to the difficulty ahead, a red flag among a sea of them when it came to Lt. Rivers.

And within twenty minutes of meeting Lt. Rivers, Harm, Mac and Bud discovered why Rivers' SEAL team wouldn't vouch for him. The man was an ass. He viewed the JAG lawyers' presence as an intrusion and a waste of time. He gave them the respect their ranks demanded, but it was also evident that he personally viewed them as nothing more than human-shaped garbage.

Faced with the Lieutenant's continued belligerence, Harm and Mac decided that maybe their time would be better spent if they chased down leads separately. Mac and Bud went to interview Rivers' SEAL teammates as Harm stayed with the man himself.

Once they were alone, Harm eyed Rivers. "Lieutenant, this isn't an inquest. We're here because the President wants to give you a medal."

"Permission to speak freely, sir." Rivers said firmly, keeping his eyes front and center without looking at Harm.

"You mean you haven't already?" Harm said with a voice laced with cold sarcasm. "Go ahead."

"I don't do my job for the medals sir."

"The medal is the Medal of Honor."

"And what makes what I did so honorable?" This time Rivers looked Harm in the eye, his voice, like his gaze, diamond hard. "I killed eight men to save one stupid enough to get himself captured. My gun was as integral to saving the day as I was, and I don't see it getting a medal."

"Because your gun wasn't the one who carried the Undersecretary to safety on its back." Harm replied coldly. "You did."

"Would I be getting a medal if he wasn't the Undersecretary of State, sir?"

"Would you accept the medal if he wasn't?"

That rendered Rivers silent for a second. Harm continued, "Who you rescued doesn't diminish the heroism you displayed, Lieutenant. It is that heroism we are trying to honor."

"Honor?" Rivers snorted at that word. "There's no honor to be found here, Commander. I'm not a hero, and no amount of commendations will ever make me one. Give it to someone who actually earned it."

"Like whom?"

"I don't know sir. You're the expert, you tell me."

oxoxoxo

Talking with Rivers' SEAL team proved to be another dead end as all of them remained notoriously tight-lipped about the night of the incident. The only thing they all agreed on was that it was dark, that there were gunshots and that they had all come back alive.

What they weren't so eager to share was the fact that one of them didn't exactly come back intact - Petty Officer Erving Douglas.

As they waited at the infirmary waiting room for the seriously wounded Petty Officer to wake up from his heavy sedation, Bud tapped his foot noisily on the floor. When he caught sight of Mac's raised eyebrow at him, he stopped. Mac returned to the old Time magazine article on Oliver North.

"How long...?" Bud began but Mac cut him off.

"Twenty-seven minutes, Bud. Three minutes and fourteen seconds since you last asked." she said without taking her eyes off the magazine.

"I'm sorry ma'am. They're taking their time, huh?" Bud asked.

"I'm sure it takes time to make sure the Petty Officer's lucid enough to answer questions, Bud."

"Yes ma'am." Bud said, fidgeting in his seat quietly. His nervous energy proved more distracting to Mac than his tapping foot. Mac put down the magazine.

"Nervous much, Bud?" she asked him.

Bud gave her a chagrined smile, "No. Just... well..."

"Just well?"

"Ma'am, may I ask a personal question?"

Wariness gripped Mac but she ignored the feeling, "Shoot."

"How do you know if you're in love?"

That caught Mac a little by surprise, but she quickly found her voice. "Are we talking about Harriet, Bud?"

Bud blushed furiously. "No!" he said forcefully, so forcefully it had to be a lie. "I mean, no, ma'am. I'm just... never mind, ma'am." Bud clammed up.

Mac tried not to laugh, but her lips did quirk into a grin she couldn't quite hide, "I guess you'll know it's love when you know, Bud."

Bud frowned at her reply. "So, what you're saying is if you don't know, then you're not really in love?" Bud asked confused.

"No." Mac quickly clarified, "I'm just saying, maybe you need more time. Maybe it's not love yet."

Bud grew even more confused. "Ma'am?"

Mac waved it off, "You know what? Forget it." Mac picked up the magazine again.

Bud wanted a woman's perspective. He felt things for Harriet he had never felt for anyone or anything else before. It was different, intense, more powerful yet infinitely more fragile than anything he had ever experienced. Harriet was everything he dreamed of, and like his dreams, he feared this one would also end all too suddenly and all too soon.

"Ma'am, is it love if you feel invincible and vulnerable at the same time?"

"It's either that or the Ebola virus." Mac joked and once she saw Bud's pained expression, she quickly apologized, "Sorry, Bud. Does she know how you feel about her?"

"I'm afraid, ma'am."

"Of Harriet?"

"To... what if I'm the only one who feels that way, ma'am?"

"Then I think she's not good enough for you, Bud." Mac smiled.

Bud smiled in response, but fear and doubt clouded it all too fast, "Ma'am, if you really loved someone, do you think it's worth the risk of getting your heart broken?"

Mac stared at Bud and for a second her eyes betrayed memories of a heart deeply scarred by her past. Fortunately for her, Bud didn't catch the look of hurt in her eyes. Doubly fortunate for her, the nurse entered then to inform them that PO Douglas was finally ready for them, saving Mac from answering the question.

oxoxoxo

Petty Officer Erving Douglas was stoic despite his horrific injuries sustained during the rescue of Culbertson. A grenade had taken most of his kevlar vest and part of his gut with it, leaving the young man destined for a life of soft foods and colostomy bags. It was all too understandable why the PO was so p-o'ed, especially when Lt. Rivers' name came up.

"Petty Officer Douglas, we are looking for confirmation of Lieutenant Rivers' actions during the rescue." Mac asked the bedridden man.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, ma'am." Douglas replied.

"Why is that?"

"Because I didn't see the Lieutenant's actions, other than he took out a guard and entered the building." Douglas said, eyeing both JAG officers. He went on, "I stayed outside and took out two on the roof. It was dark..."

Douglas trailed off momentarily, his jaw clenching as he remembered what happened next all too clearly - the few seconds that would stay with him the rest of his life. "It was dark and I didn't see the grenade. It exploded and... I got hit. After that, I didn't see anything else."

The young man's eyes glazed over, his mind back on the night of the mission, reliving it in real time. "Next thing I know, Chief Wilkins was bending over me in the boat, trying to hold my stomach shut with bandages and spit."

Mac looked at Bud, silently prompting him to ask the next question. Bud did.

"How do you feel about Lieutenant Rivers?" Bud asked.

"Lieutenant Rivers is the leader of my team, sir." Douglas responded without hesitation or emotion.

Bud continued, "Do you have an opinion about whether he deserves the Medal of Honor?"

That gave Douglas pause. "Sir, I'm lying here with six feet of my intestines missing. I'll be drinking soup and craping into that bag by my bed from now on. Tell me, sir, what did I do to deserve this?"

"N-nothing." Bud stuttered.

"Then as far as I'm concerned, sir, the Lieutenant must have done less than nothing that night."

oxoxoxo

NEXT DAY  
1700 ZULU  
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE COMMAND  
CORONADO, CALIFORNIA

In pursuing more leads, Mac finally unearthed the reason for Rivers' SEAL team's lack of support for their leader. Rivers had committed the unforgivable sin of leaving Douglas behind at the expense of rescuing Culbertson. It broke the cardinal rule of never leaving a member of your SEAL unit behind, no matter the circumstances.

Harm and Mac reported back to the Admiral with their findings. Mac and Harm disagreed about her conclusions, which included her recommendation that Rivers not be given the medal and be drawn up on charges for endangering his men instead. The Marines had a similar ethos to the Navy SEALs - no man left behind - and Mac could relate to Rivers' SEAL team's sense of betrayal.

A.J. was inclined to agree with Mac's assessment, but he also had his hands tied in this matter. Apparently Culbertson, the President's choice for leading peace talks in the Middle East, had far more pull than they all realized. Enough pull to pressure the Secretary of the Navy to, in not so many words, order them to approve of Rivers. President Clinton after all was seeking to redress the fact that during the entire course of the second World War, no man of color had earned the Medal of Honor, despite evidence to the selfless acts of courage displayed by them during that conflict.

The African-American Lt. Rivers would be a powerful symbol of that righting of wrongs, a visual representation of the change in mindset. His award ceremony would be a fitting image that America was now once again, a united state.

Once the SecNav was off the phone, Chegwidden ordered Harm and Mac to get to the bottom of this and find a legitimate excuse to either stop the nomination, or for them to okay Rivers for real. He would not rubberstamp this - no matter what the politicians wanted. It would not only damage the honor of the medal, but taint the honor of the SEALs - and that was something A.J. was not prepared to do.

oxoxoxo

Faced with a tight deadline, Harm decided to pay a visit to Rivers' house just off base. He came bearing gifts - Cuban cigars that Curtis Rivers frowned at, and a bottle of 18-year old Jack Daniels that Rivers frowned at less. Rivers took the bottle and poured out two helpings, offering one to Harm.

Harm looked around the house and noted the lack of family pictures, not even a snapshot of a pet. The interior was also decidedly spartan, and very masculine.

"You live alone?" Harm asked.

"You say that like you're surprised, Commander." Rivers replied as he walked out to the porch. Harm followed him outside. The night was dark, and Harm found that there were two chairs out on the deck. Enough for a guest though obviously not many female ones.

Harm answered, "Not surprised, but I'd think someone like you would have someone special."

"Someone special?"

"A girlfriend. Or..." Harm trailed off.

"I'm not gay if that's what you're worried about, Commander. I don't have time for women. If the Navy wanted me to have a wife, they would have issued me one with my dog tags and my seabag."

Harm chuckled before adding, "There's more to life than just work, Lieutenant." Harm said as he sipped his drink. Rivers stared at the JAG attorney - _a case of pot calling the kettle black._

"You got a girl?" Rivers asked.

Harm shook his head, "No."

"Not looking or not interested?"

That gave Harm pause, but he decided to answer truthfully. "Found her and lost her."

Rivers read the dark expression on Harm's face and grew curious. "What happened?" he asked, his tone softening.

Harm was quiet, his mind replaying everything that led to _'what happened'_.

oxoxoxo

TWO YEARS PRIOR  
0900 ZULU  
HARM'S OLD APARTMENT  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Aviation pictures dotted Harm's bedroom, not hung on the wall, but leaning against it. He never got the landlord's permission to put hooks up in the rented apartment, and this seemed as good a way as any to decorate the room. This was his old apartment, where Allison Krennick had walked in on Maria Elena Carmelita Moreno Gutierrez a few months back - several long months back. Way before the woman Harm was still in love with stepped back into his life.

Harm rolled over in bed and looked at the woman in question. Her short dark brunette hair was tousled, messy from the energetic lovemaking she had indulged in the night before. Harm smiled as he took pride that he got her hair that way before pressing a kiss against her naked shoulder. He was rewarded with a sleepy little grunt.

"Morning sleepyhead." he said.

"What time is it?" she asked as she rolled over to face him, her eyes opening slowly to reveal dark brown irises shining with all the love in the world.

"Does it matter?" he asked, planting slow kisses against her exposed neck.

"Harm..."

"Diane." he sighed her name as he kissed her collarbone.

Diane Schonke eyed the clock behind Harm and saw that it was still early. They had time. So she let him feast on her body, let his lips cover hers in a searing kiss. Let him make love to her one more time before they had to wake up and return to the real world.

It was slow, tender, neither wanting this to end too quick, both wanting to draw this out as if doing so would make time stand still. Perhaps it did, if only for the two of them.

Their sweaty bodies entwined in the sheets, the summer heat not sparing D.C. this year. Diane met Harm's every thrust with her own as their tongues mated with the same intensity that their bodies displayed. He laced his fingers through hers even as she wrapped her legs around his. There were no need for words, both knew that this was love and that was enough.

When pleasure finally rocked their bodies, Harm collapsed on top of her. She was still wrapped around him, holding him close as he completed his release, and her muscles tightened around him with his every throb. He lifted himself onto an elbow and looked deep into her eyes, before a slow smile crept over his handsome face. The smile seemed to light up the darkened room, a smile she returned. He moved a stray bang from her face and whispered.

"I love you, Diane." he said, meaning every word.

"About time, sailor." she sighed in reply before pulling his head down for another kiss.

oxoxoxo

Hours later, she was dressed in her summer whites, ready to leave his apartment. She was catching a helo out to the Seahawk where she was stationed as a replacement cryptography officer. They had agreed not to make a big deal about this separation.

"It's only 3 months, Harm." Diane said as she finished her cup of coffee while eyeing the man who made it. "That'll give you time to say goodbye to all your other girlfriends." she teased.

Harm chuckled, "Girlfriend. So does that make me your boyfriend?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She smiled, leaned in and kissed him lightly. She disengaged all too quickly and walked to the door with her sea bag, still holding his hand. Harm opened the door for her, letting her through but he pulled her back before she could exit. She looked at him with a confused look and saw the pained look in his eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with?"

She nodded. "You'd have to get in uniform, and... well, I don't think I'll be able to control myself seeing you in your dress whites."

That made his brilliant smile spark into life. "Maybe I should put it on for you right now."

"I have to go, Harm." she said.

"I know."

She gave him one final kiss before letting go of his hand and donning her hat. She started to leave when Harm called out to her again.

"Diane."

She looked back at him.

"Don't fall for any other sailors." he joked.

Diane laughed at the lame joke. "Goodbye Harm." she said before she finally walked away. And walked out of his life forever.

oxoxoxo

Three months later on a cold October morn, Harm peeled back the black body bag revealing the benign almost peaceful expression on the face of the girl he loved. The girl he planned to spend the rest of his life with. The girl taken from him. The cold lifeless body of Diane Schonke.

oxoxoxo

PRESENT DAY  
0100 ZULU  
CURTIS RIVERS' HOUSE  
CORONADO, CALIFORNIA

"Our careers got in the way." Harm said sadly to Rivers, not recounting what he and Diane shared.

The first bottle disappeared quickly, chased by another bottle Rivers had stashed away. That was nearly half gone itself when Harm broached the subject of Rivers' reluctance to accept the Medal of Honor.

"You must think you've got me drunk enough to answer your questions." Rivers responded as he drained his glass.

"One of your men blames the casualties on your inadequate leadership skills. I'm giving you an opportunity to defend yourself." Harm said, setting his own drink aside to enjoy his cigar. At Rivers' continued silence, Harm pinned him with a steely glare.

"Stop giving me the runaround, Lieutenant. What really happened down there on the night of the mission?"

Rivers stared back, not the slightest bit intimidated. "I'm sure you got the official version, Commander. That's good by me."

"Officially, you abandoned PO Douglas. Officially that makes you a bad leader and we should be drawing you up on charges."

"What's stopping you, Commander? My sunny disposition?" Rivers asked.

It was Harm's turn to reply with silence and Rivers shook his head sadly. Staring out into the dark night beyond his porch, he didn't bother to mask the bitterness in his voice. "You know they first gave the Medal of Honor to white boys for pulling their dumbass shipmates out of the water." Rivers turned back to face Harm, "Know what they gave the black boys who did the same?"

"No."

"A bucket to clean up the mess they left on deck."

"Is that what you'd prefer instead? A bucket?" Harm asked.

"At least it'd be more honest, Commander. Don't you think I know what this is really about? Would I have earned the medal if I were any color other than black?"

"This isn't about race, Rivers. If you can't see that, then I pity you."

Rivers snorted. "It's going to take a lot more than cigars and bourbon and your pity to get anything out of me." Rivers said, making it sound suspiciously like a challenge, one which Harm couldn't resist.

"Oh, yeah? What would it take?" Harm asked.

oxoxoxo

What it would take was Harm agreeing to subject himself to the last day of Navy SEAL hell week.

"You wouldn't last a day in my world, Commander." were the exact words Rivers used, and Harm knew that the only way to get Rivers to spill his guts was to prove otherwise.

However there was one person he had to face first, and she wasn't happy.

Mac glared at her partner as he packed his gear, all dressed for maneuvers. She stood in the doorway of his room to stop him from pushing past her without talking to her first.

"What are you hoping to prove Harm? You could have pulled rank to get the answers."

"We tried and what did that get us? At least this way we can get the truth from Rivers."

Mac knew he was right, but she didn't have to admit it to him. Her eyes flashed with a hint of anger. "Is that all that matters to you? Answers at any cost?"

"And what price would you put on the truth, Mac?" he answered, his tone all too calm, all too cold.

She knew why he was the way he was. He was driven to find the truth, driven as if each answer he unearthed would somehow lead him to uncovering what really happened to his father after he was shot down in Vietnam.

"You're never going to change are you? You're always going to rush off headfirst on some reckless quest to save somebody - whether they want it or not."

Harm caught the harsh tone that underlined her words. He stopped packing and turned towards her. "What would you do, Mac? Walk away?"

"This isn't about me."

"But you have no problem making this about me. Have you considered that Lieutenant Rivers deserves the Medal of Honor because he earned it?"

Mac held his gaze, "It's not our job to try and survive SEAL training."

"Our job is to do whatever it takes."

"Even if it kills you?" she fired back.

Harm felt a cold rage grip his chest. "It's nice to know you have such faith in me."

Harm slung his gear over his shoulder and pushed past her, forcing her to back away from the door. He didn't give her a second look as he walked away.

oxoxoxo

The final challenge of SEAL hell week was to trek through 5 miles of rough terrain with as little sound as possible, before scaling a 15 foot cliff face and sneaking across open ground evading searchlights and guards, all the while carrying a 30 lbs backpack and armed with only a knife and a single MP5 machine gun, and complete the course in 3 hours. As Harm wasn't even a SEAL recruit, Rivers decided to make it easier on him - he'd only have to carry a 20 lbs pack, and there was no time limit.

In return, Rivers pushed all of Harm's buttons, physically, mentally and emotionally. Somewhere along the lines, Rivers had gotten hold of Harm's service record and taunted him with it whenever Harm faltered. And Harm faltered often, especially since Rivers had changed the mission time to take place later at night, knowing full well that Harm's eyesight would handicap him.

Rivers confronted Harm with the ramp strike that killed his RIO, highlighting Harm's selfish pride that made him believe he was infallible and invincible.

"What was the name of your RIO, buddy? Was he a nice guy? Was he your friend?" Rivers asked.

Harm tried to shut out Rivers' voice but the man went on. "He liked you, didn't he? He trusted you. He put his life in your hands. I guess you let him down when you got him killed."

And on and on Rivers went, driving Harm angry enough to almost take a swing at the SEAL - as suicidal as it may have been, it would have been satisfying to knock the abrasive Lieutenant flat on his ass.

Rivers sensed Harm's desire to slug him. "You wanna take a shot at me, Commander?" he asked, jutting his chin in Harm's direction, goading him. "Go ahead. Let's end this."

When Harm did nothing, Rivers nodded with self satisfaction. "Just what I thought. You don't have the guts to do your killing up close and personal. Hell, have you killed anyone not by accident?"

That made Harm's already on edge resolve break and he lashed out at Rivers. Rivers stumbled back, Harm's fist catching his jaw. If not for Rivers' reflexes, Harm's fist may have broken said jaw.

Rivers grinned. He faced Harm and got Harm to shuck off his backpack, before they circled each other, exchanging blows.

Harm was good, not good enough to box for the Navy, but good enough to be more than a lot of trouble for anyone. Harm's long reach and quick arm speed were not to be underestimated. Repeatedly Rivers tried to duck past the long reach and bring the fight in up close, allowing Rivers to use his more compact swing to deadly affect. Repeatedly Harm kept him at bay.

They traded blows until neither had much fight left in them. They slumped down next to each other, neither man admitting defeat even though neither had enough strength left to fight for victory.

"You fight well... for a lawyer."

Harm chortled, "Well, I'm even better in court. Besides, you were holding back."

Rivers eyed him, not denying Harm's allegation. Harm pressed on, "What are you trying to expiate Curtis? Why do you want to punish yourself? Tell me."

The Navy SEAL remained silent for a second, before slumping back against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. "What you heard is right. I've got nothing to add."

"Tell me what happened."

"Tell me what you heard."

"You broke the SEAL code. You left your man. Is it true?" Harm asked.

Rivers' lips thinned into a frown, "I don't have to defend myself to you, to them or to anyone. The mission I took was to save the Undersecretary of State. I did that. Nothing else matters."

Harm could understand Rivers' single-mindedness, but it still didn't answer, "Why do your men resent you?"

Rivers looked at Harm, "Resent me?" he asked incredulously. "They hate my guts."

"Why?" Harm asked, a little more insistent.

"Because I operate instinctively, regardless of their wishes."

"They still follow you."

"They have to. I outrank them."

"They respected you. They trusted you. What changed?"

Rivers took Harm back to the night in question, finally opening up and recounting what happened, what he saw, what he heard. He revealed the team's hesitance to move, that they were only tasked with observation, not infiltration and definitely not engaging the enemy. Rivers may have been leading them that night, but he was also leading them to disregard orders.

Harm knew that if events had happened differently, if Rivers hadn't successfully rescued the Undersecretary of State, he would have been facing court-martial instead of receiving a medal. He put the entire SEAL Team, PO Douglas in particular, at risk with his Rambo moment, and the team resented that. But crucially, Rivers also revealed something that changed everything.

"You went back for Douglas?" Harm asked.

"Yeah."

"You lit a flare so the others would come find him."

"Did Douglas tell you that?"

"He was unconscious."

"Is that what he said?" Rivers asked.

"Wasn't he?"

A look at Rivers revealed that either he, or Douglas was lying.

"Whatever." Rivers let the issue die.

Harm though wouldn't. "Why won't you speak on your own behalf, Lieutenant?"

"Because all the medals in the world won't make you a better leader." Rivers said, and Harm heard the bitter tinge of guilt in his voice. Perhaps that guilt was why Rivers was so reluctant to receive his medal. That he had earned it by sacrificing his team's well being.

oxoxoxo

Confronting PO Douglas, Harm finally got the injured Petty Officer to reveal the truth. Douglas had been conscious during the attack, had seen Lt. Rivers take out most of the eight terrorists as well as carry the Undersecretary on his back. Rivers had found Douglas, had offered to stay with him, but Douglas had urged his unit leader to take the Undersecretary to safety. Rivers however lit a flare marking Douglas' position for the rest of the SEAL team to find.

Douglas also had a hard choice to make, seek revenge against Rivers, or learn to let go of the hate and find peace with the rest of his life. It was a mightily close run thing, but eventually Douglas made the hard choice, and chose to let go of his hate. And gave what Rivers needed to confirm his suitability to receive the Medal of Honor - a second witness.

It would be weeks later before the ceremony honoring Rivers would be held at the White House, but for now the JAG team had done their job and it was time to go home.

oxoxoxo

0100 ZULU  
MAC'S APARTMENT  
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

After a lengthy bubble bath Mac felt like a woman reborn. Lazy but reborn. She put on a pair of cute plaid pajama bottoms before pulling on a Duke University T-shirt over her naked top. She slipped into fuzzy slippers and walked out of her bedroom.

Turning on the TV more for sound than for actual entertainment, Mac made her way to her dining table, which was more paleontological workspace than eating space at the moment. Laid out underneath a desk lamp was an ichnite sample - a fossilized dinosaur footprint she had collected from Uncle Matt's home the last time she went back to gather up some stuff to be sent to him at Leavenworth.

Thoughts of her uncle in prison started to darken her mood. She shook it off and concentrated on the ichnite in front of her instead.

Only to be interrupted by a knock at her door. She frowned, she wasn't expecting company and she crossed over to the door to peek out the peephole.

To find Dalton Lowne standing there, dressed to the nines. Mac's frown deepened but she opened the door.

"Dalton?"

Dalton looked Mac up and down, seeing her very casual get up. "Sarah, you're not ready?"

"Ready?" Mac's confusion was evident.

"Tristan and Isolde. The opera?" Dalton tried to jog Mac's memory.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, Dalton." Mac said, quickly letting him in. "I... It slipped..." Mac stammered out an excuse.

Dalton smiled understandingly, "It's okay, Sarah. The opera house isn't going anywhere, and we can always catch it another time. But how about dinner?" Dalton switched gears smoothly.

"Ah, well... I just got back from a case..." Mac wanted to stay home but Dalton pressed on.

"And you still need to eat. I've missed you Sarah. Let me take you to dinner." he said, making Mac feel guilty about neglecting him.

And so despite her desire to be alone tonight, Mac relented.

oxoxoxo

Only a regular like Dalton could score a table at a fancy restaurant at the eleventh hour. That and it was the middle of a work week and most people preferred staying home tonight.

Mac was stunning in her little black dress, her hair slicked back casually because she didn't have much time to do anything else with it. A little gold chain and cross dangled from her neck, a keepsake she had gotten from Uncle Matt - an early birthday present.

During dinner, the conversation turned to Dalton's cases before the Supreme Court. Dalton spoke with a fervor that Mac found sexy, a man in his element talking with passion about what he did everyday, about changing the landscape of American law, about the change he was help bringing about.

"You should join us."

That startled Mac, "What?"

"Join Lowell, Hanson and Lowne." Dalton smiled. "You're a talented litigator Sarah, and meant for greater things."

"I think I'm doing pretty great things at JAG..."

"No, they're getting you to play P.I. over there. Or girl Friday. I mean when was the last time you argued a case in court, Sarah?"

Mac had to admit it had been a while. She had gotten the okay for the JAG office to switch over to a digital filing system - but like any large bureaucracy it hadn't been a smooth transition. Between Mac, Harriet and Bud, they had put out enough metaphorical fires to feel like a real one might actually be preferable.

She was itching to get back in court. She feared that her skills were atrophying from disuse and there was a distinct sense that her place in the pecking order was being usurped by other junior JAGs. Still it had been the Admiral's orders.

"I have my orders, Dalton." Mac said.

Dalton snorted in disgust. "What I see is a waste of your abilities, Sarah. You're too good to be stuck doing paperwork. Think about your future."

For the first time, Mac feared that maybe she didn't have a future at JAG. Perhaps Dalton was right, but she was equally unsure if he really was. "I don't know, Dalton."

Dalton sensed her weakening resolve and pounced. "Well I do. Hey, you'll be making three times as much just sitting in our office. And you'll get an office."

"I already have an office." Mac said with a wan smile.

Dalton laughed, "No, you have a jail cell. A real office has a window with a view and enough floor space to walk around in."

"I'm not saying it's not tempting, Dalton."

"But not tempting enough?"

Mac sighed. "... I don't want to be the boss's girlfriend."

"So we're boyfriend girlfriend now?"

Mac saw the playful smirk on his face and gave him a disapproving look. "Dalton."

"Sarah, you're not getting the job because of what we have." He looked her in the eye. "The partners looked at your credentials and were impressed. I mean, it's not everyday you defend someone for stealing the Declaration of Independence."

Mac shied away from his gaze and subconsciously started fingering the gold chain around her neck, the present from Uncle Matt. "... He was sent to Leavenworth in the end though." she said sadly.

"Well, you win some, you lose some." Dalton said glibly.

Mac looked back at him, her eyes narrowing. "That was the most important case of my career."

Misreading her shift in mood, Dalton tried to lighten it. "There'll be others. Who knows, maybe someone will try to steal the Constitution next."

Mac felt mad that Dalton would make light of Uncle Matt's case, but just as quickly realized it was her own fault. She hadn't shared with him about Uncle Matt, hadn't really shared with him anything about herself. She found it ironically funny that she had practically revealed her entire life story to Harm on the first day they worked together, yet the man who she had more than a few dates with still knew nothing.

"Let's not talk about work." Mac said with a forced grin.

Dalton smiled, "Okay. Tell me more about this boyfriend girlfriend thing." he said as he reached over the table and took her hand in his. And Mac let him, her smile slowly becoming genuine.

oxoxoxo

Harm sat on one of the high stools by his kitchen counter, strumming his acoustic guitar, playing several chords of the Lovin' Spoonful's Darling Be Home Soon. It seemed apt as he stared at the tied-up pile of letters he inherited from Agent Turqay of NCIS. The pile of letters from Diane.

Harm's eyes however slid their focus to something closer to him - an open bottle of beer. He reached for it and took another swig, and for the few seconds it took him to swallow, he could forget the lump of sadness that gripped his throat.

Setting the beer bottle down, Harm went back to strumming the guitar, choosing to ignore the letters, yet not able to put them away either. So he sat at opposite end of the kitchen counter, ignoring it, pretending that the letters weren't here, that they didn't exist.

So he played and pretended that he was fine, even though it was evident he was not.

* * *

Next Episode: **Like Father Like Son** (original episode)


End file.
